


carry your fears in your heart and let them go

by pessimisticidealist



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: Bollywood inspired, F/F, F/M, I guess Fabiola/Alex is happening in the first chapter, Multi, but if you know either the movie or the show you know it's not gonna last, dumb indulgent stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25800973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pessimisticidealist/pseuds/pessimisticidealist
Summary: Fabiola Torres is getting married, and reunites with her two best friends in the world for a bachelorette trip to Spain. However, the three of them haven't been this close in years, and this trip is a perfect environment for long-held tensions to surface, problems to be worked out, and most of all, new experiences to be had.Inspired by Bollywood film Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara.
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar, Eve (Never Have I Ever)/Fabiola Torres, Paxton Hall-Yoshida/Eleanor Wong
Comments: 21
Kudos: 24





	1. let your heart beat, unrestrained

**Author's Note:**

> I basically just watched Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara a few weeks ago and realised how easy it was to map the NHIE characters onto the ones from the film, and this was the result, and it's nowhere close to being done yet. If you're familiar with the movie, enjoy, and predict what you think is coming. If you're not - well, please do it anyway?

“Will you marry me?”

Fabiola Torres looks down at her boyfriend, kneeling in front of her with the most open, earnest expression she’s ever seen, and is entirely lost for words.

“Alex,” she starts, “please.”

“Fine,” he says, again. “Fabiola, will you marry me… please?”

She shakes her head, looking ahead to the garden that stretches out behind them. The sun is just setting, the sky emblazoned in shades of yellow and pink. Eleanor would probably die for a proposal like this. But not her...

“Why are you doing this?” she asks.

“Well,” Alex says sheepishly, “I suppose it was bound to happen, sooner or later, right? I mean - we love each other, our families… well, they’ll learn to love each other with time.” He chuckles. “You’re a smart, successful engineer, and I… am an engineer too. We’re perfect for each other. What do you say?”

Fabiola doesn’t know what she would say. Marriage - now - it’s... It isn’t something she’s thought of happening to her, and certainly not in relation to Alex, who she’s been with for barely half a year. Still, he’s not wrong. At least, she can’t find any reasonable refutation to his arguments - and she’s nothing if not a rational person. “Are you sure?”

“Fab, please make it quick,” Alex says, wobbling on his knee. “My knee _hurts_.”

She smiles at him. Well - there’s no harm in accepting his proposal, right? She is genuinely fond of him, even if she’s not sure if it’s love. Then again, how would she know what love is? She’s twenty-six, he’s her first boyfriend, and this is all the experience she has.

And - and perhaps this is more crucial - her family is going to be ecstatic.

When she first told her mother about Alex, Elise had been overjoyed, asking to meet him as soon as Fabiola let his name fall from her lips. It’s almost like she had been waiting for her to finally get a boyfriend, and Fabiola knows, too, that she’ll be very happy at the prospect of her daughter finally getting married. Perhaps even more than that, she’ll be excited to plan a wedding. Her brother’s been engaged for years now, with no wedding in sight, and it’s frustrated her parents beyond belief.

Perhaps it’s this thought, then, that spurs her to finally do what she does next.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she says, smiling, before reaching out an arm to hoist poor Alex from the ground he’s been kneeling on for what feels like forever. “C’mon now, get up, let’s go tell your parents about it.”

* * *

_“Did you ever know that you're my hero  
And everything I would like to be?  
I can fly higher than an eagle  
For you are the wind beneath my wings…”_

“Is that your cousin?” Eleanor Wong asks Fabiola, gesturing with her wine glass in the direction of the woman singing on stage.

“Sister-in-law,” Fabiola corrects, wincing as Bianca launches into a shattering high note once again. “Technically. She and Adam have been together, like, forever, but they aren’t married. Mom’s given up on trying to convince them.”

“Bet she must have been happy about you and Alex, then,” Eleanor says, shooting a smirk at her friend. It doesn’t escape her notice that Fabiola doesn’t really respond to the statement beyond a non-committal grunt, but she’s not going to delve into that here, or today.

As Bianca finishes her song, Eleanor strolls over to the front of the room, clinking her glass with a spoon. She’s never been one to pass up on a chance to be dramatic, and all her friends are well aware of that - so she preens a little and smiles brilliantly, tossing her hair over one shoulder.

“Hello, everyone!” she proclaims to the crowd at large, who respond with a smattering of shouts and applause. “I’m Eleanor. Fabiola’s best friend since, oh, elementary school.”

“Yes, Eleanor of the three musketeers,” Adam shouts back at her.

“Thank you, Adam. Yes, we were called the three musketeers. Unfortunately, our third member… well…” She pauses for dramatic effect. “Ben is no longer with us.”

A hushed silence falls over the party, and Eleanor continues. “Don’t worry, he’s alive. He just wasn’t able to make it today.”

She’s rewarded with a collective groan from the audience, and her grin grows wider. Just as she’d hoped - she’s holding the crowd well. She continues.

“Alex, Fabiola is one of the best women I know- no, the best _people_ I know. She's got an exceedingly sharp mind and she is very, very creative. I'm sure she'll have tinkered up all sorts of gadgets to make your lives easier in no time." Eleanor pauses again, letting the laugh ripple through the crowd. "She's smart enough that you can leave all the kids' homework to her, and big-hearted enough that she'll let them see you as the cool parent, even when she is clearly the _coolest_."

"Nice, ringing endorsement of me there, El," Fabiola calls out. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Eleanor beams unabashedly at her friend. “So, Alex, as I was saying - Fabiola is solid, and she’s reliable. You can lean on her, no matter what, because she’ll never let you down.”

She’s come to a natural end point for her speech, and is rewarded with applause and some people in the crowd shouting, “Hear, hear!” Smiling, she curtsies to the crowd, and says, “Okay, Fab, time to pay up.”

A while later, she’s chatting with Eve, a friend of Fabiola’s from university, when Eve asks her, “So, do you guys have any plans for a bachelorette? Because I had some ideas-”

“Oh,” Eleanor’s face falls, but she recovers almost instantly. “Ben and I have had something planned for her for ages, you know. But you can have a party for her once we’re back!”

“Back?” Eve looks at her curiously. “Will you be travelling somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Eleanor says, perking up as she speaks. “We’d made a pact long ago, to go on a vacation to Spain. And each one of us is supposed to choose an adventure sport that all of us will do together.”

“What, like Fear Factor?” Marlene, one of Fabiola's cousins, cuts in. “That’s insane!”

“What can I say,” Eleanor says, grinning. “That’s me.”

* * *

“So what’d you pick, Fabs?” Oliver Martinez asks his friend, who’s leaning against the bar, taking a second to take in the party so far.

“Can’t say,” Fabiola says. “You’ll go and tell Eleanor, and then the surprise will be ruined.”

Eleanor and Oliver are, somehow, the weirdest exes Fabiola has ever seen. They’d dated for almost eight years, ever since high school ended, and she’d been sure they’d make it to the altar - but then, earlier this year, they broke up. Fabiola was prepared for Eleanor’s usual dramatic reaction to heartbreak, and even had the tissues ready. But after a few days of the requisite bawling, El bounced back with a vengeance. Now, she and Oliver are still fast friends, and closer to each other than ever.

“You guys are keeping it a secret from each other? Shut up!” Oliver looks suitably scandalised, and Fabiola can’t even blame him. The only thing she’s actually surprised about is that Eleanor hasn’t told him what she picked, but hey, El has always been big on the integrity of promises.

“Yeah, so none of us chicken out. Ben might very well do that, he’s terrified of almost everything,” she says, smirking. “This was El’s idea, if you haven’t figured it out already.”

“Ah, of course it is,” Oliver says, looking a little wistful, and Fabiola hits upon an idea.

“Hey,” she says. “I heard about what happened to you a while back.”

At first, Oliver looks confused; then, slowly, terror begins to dawn on his face. “Oh, God. How much detail did Eleanor go into?”

“That’s not my place to say,” Fabiola says, as she slowly starts to grin.

“Listen, you can’t tell anyone else, please,” Oliver says, now looking truly terrified. “My reputation is gonna be ruined if anyone finds out. God. I thought I could trust Eleanor with this.”

“I won’t, Oliver, don’t worry,” Fabiola says.

“I was on the rebound, okay?” he bursts out. “It was just a few days after we’d broken up, and I was missing her terribly, and I just… I went to this nightclub, okay, even if I hate clubs. And I met a girl, and I took her home. Well, I wanted to take her home. But I passed out in the cab. And when I woke up… she was gone, the sun was rising, and I’d thrown up all over the seat!”

Fabiola struggles to contain her rising amusement, keeping her expression neutral and nodding sympathetically even as she fights the urge to laugh. “Oh, man. Oliver, I’m so sorry that happened to you.” She takes a sip of the drink in her hand, half to contain her laughter, half to hide her face from him.

“I’m going to kill Eleanor,” Oliver growls, with no real malice, but a great deal of mortification. “I lost two hundred dollars that night. Two hundred. And now that she’s gone and told you, I’ve lost my dignity, too.”

“Whoa, hey, hold up, Oliver,” Eleanor, who has just walked over after overhearing the last bits of the conversation, says. “I never told Fab anything.”

“You didn’t?” Oliver looks askance at her, then at Fabiola again. “Then who told you? I haven’t told anyone but her!” He fixes Eleanor with an accusatory stare. “Did you tell someone else? God, does either of you know the girl? Or the cab driver?”

“Calm down, Oliver,” Fabiola says, patting his shoulder. “Eleanor didn’t tell me anything. Neither did anyone else.” She looks sidelong at her friend, for whom realisation seems to be dawning.

“Oh, Jesus.” Eleanor slaps her forehead. “This is that dumb trick of yours again, isn’t it, Fab?”

One advantage of taking a psychology minor with a robotics major in college, Fabiola has found, is that her friends believe anything she says about what she thinks they're feeling, even if it's total bullshit half the time. Another is that she can usually worm things out of them that they'd never say otherwise. This is one of her pet tricks, and it worked like a charm every time - tell someone you know a secret about them, and in no time, they'll spill.

"That's the one," she says, her guilt mostly drowned out by her amusement at the situation. It isn't even that embarrassing, really, not in her opinion anyway. Oliver seems to agree with her, because he's finally starting to smile, probably seeing the funny side of the whole thing.

"God, Alex is going to have a hell of a time with you, isn't he?" Oliver says, shaking his head.

* * *

On the best of days, Ben Gross is not what you'd call a patient person. He's excellent at his job, and has justifiably risen in the ranks over the few years he has been working in investment banking; but patience is certainly not a virtue he has. Adding insult to injury, today is hardly what he'd call the best of days.

"Damn it, Eric, time equals money," he hisses at his subordinate over the phone. "So if you want money, stop wasting my time. You better sell fifty thousand of those contracts this month, alright? Fifty thousand, and don't you dare screw up the stop losses this time." He hangs up the phone, seething, and begins to move out of the room.

Okay, maybe he hadn't meant to yell like that… actually, who was he kidding? He had absolutely meant to yell like that. _And I have all the right to, damn it._ If the people around him keep making stupid decisions, he'll probably have to trade his Porsche Cayenne in for a Prius in a few months. He leans against a wall for a second, rubbing his temples. God, he wants a drink. Or five, or ten.

His phone buzzes once, and he ignores it. It's probably from his father, and he's not in a mood to look at it right now. _God knows, he's probably just texting to cancel dinner tonight._

His impulse to look at the message eventually wins out over his better instincts, though, and he opens it. Predictably, he is not surprised at all.

_Sorry bubelah can't make it today. Have to stay late at the office. How does next week sound?_

Ben sighs, almost slamming the phone against his leg. He really shouldn't be disappointed with this - he shouldn't, but he is, and he can't help it. Luckily, his phone begins to ring again, breaking him out of his gloomy reverie.

As soon as he sees who's calling him, he brightens up immediately. "Fabiolaaaaaa!" he says, a smile automatically lighting up his face. "Congratulations. I'm sorry I couldn't make it for your party. Really. You've got no idea how crazy things are here."

"Hey, man, it's your loss," Fabiola says, in a wry tone. "You're the one who missed an excellent party." She sounds relaxed, and cheerful, and Ben legitimately cannot remember the last time he was either of those things.

"Yeah, I'm sure it was great," Ben says, before pausing. He's not sure why she called, but it probably has something to do with the trip… so it's most likely better to bite the bullet and admit what he's been thinking about all day.

"Hey, dude… I'm really sorry. I don't think I can make it to Spain with you guys."

"What?" Fabiola sounds genuinely heartbroken, and guilt immediately floods through him. "Ben, you promised."

"I know, I know," he says. "I'm sorry. I really thought this deal I was working on would come through… but it's not. And I'm stuck. It won't be great for business if I just up and take a three-week vacation."

Fabiola heaves a sigh, and Ben knows it's not fake. If anyone would be exaggerating their emotions for dramatic effect, it'd be Eleanor, not her. "I can't believe you're ditching me on my bachelorette trip."

"No, Fab, it's not that…" Ben begins to protest. "Isn't it weird for a guy to come on a bachelorette trip anyway? You can take, like, Eve." He knows Eve from how often Fabiola talks of her; in fact, he liked to think, he probably knows her better from the descriptions than if he'd actually met her himself. Fab's even eager for them to meet - apparently she is Jewish too, so they'd get along well, or so she says. Ben doubts it, mostly owing to the fact that he doesn't get along well with many people these days.

"Now you're just bullshitting, Ben," Fabiola says tiredly. "You know how long back we've planned this. It was us, and it was always going to be us. If you can't come, neither of us wants to go either."

“Fab, no,” Ben protests weakly, but is quickly cut off by her voice.

“We’ve cancelled the trip once before, right? We may as well do it again, it’s fine.”

He sighs deeply, folding up his leg to rest against the wall. “Fabiola, you know I love you. Please don’t do this.” It’s not that he doesn’t want to go, either - quite the opposite. It’s just…

“I’m not doing anything. It’s either the three of us going, or no one goes,” she says firmly, and Ben knows her mind is made up. At this point, trying to convince her to change her mind is a lost cause.

“I'll think about it,” he says after a long pause, and hears a shriek of delight from the other end of the line. Now, he knows that Eleanor is definitely with Fab, listening in to their conversation.

When he’s finally done talking to Fabiola, he makes his way out of his office building and over to his car. He’s just about to open it when a voice at his shoulder says, “Ben.”

Ben turns, only to see Melissa standing near him, an inscrutable look on her face. “Hi,” he says, keeping his voice as carefully flat as possible.

Ever since they broke up, he’s been careful to avoid her, however difficult it may be when you share an office complex. Still, the fact that she’s come here, today…

“How are you?” she asks, reaching out a hand to touch his arm. Ben wants to flinch away from her, somehow; it feels all wrong, now. His arm stills in place, and he forces a shaky smile onto his face.

“I’m fine,” he says, nodding at her. She’s much more toned than the last time he saw her, and he wonders what spurred this change. "You look nice. Been working out lately?"

"Yeah," she says, so softly he almost misses it. "I was gonna call you tomorrow, but- well, I saw you here."

Ben's about to ask why, but before he can, she continues- "I'm getting married."

A feeling almost like ice washes through his chest. "Well, that was quick," he says sardonically. It's barely been three months since their breakup.

Melissa shakes her head, and reaches out again. "Ben, please."

This time, he does flinch away. "All the best. Have a nice life." Without looking at her again, he gets into his car, and steps on the gas.

His phone rings again, and he sends it to voicemail.

_"Ben, it's me again. I know why you're making excuses, dude, okay? But it's been years since that happened now. I'm getting married, and I want both of you to be there for me. I have only two friends who I'd ever do this with, and if they can't set aside their differences for a few weeks, for me, then I may as well have none. Come on. We're the three musketeers, right? All for one and one for all. Please think about it."_

* * *

As soon as Eleanor enters her childhood home, she's enveloped in a hug by her father.

"Hey, Dad," she says, wrapping her arms around his waist. He always gives the best hugs. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, dear," he says, and Eleanor smiles a bit. She definitely hasn't got her theatricality from her dad, but there are many qualities they share, too, and their cadence of speaking is one of them. "It's not easy, but… it gets easier every day. Can I make you some coffee?"

When she nods, he immediately leads her to the kitchen. It's a tradition of theirs that's lasted since childhood - coffee and confessions, and even if she's found coffee she likes better in New York, her dad's is something special.

Five minutes later, she's leaning against the island, blowing on the hot mug of coffee he's just handed her, when he speaks again.

"Have you thought about moving back here?"

Eleanor groans. "Oh, Dad." She understands he needs her right now, but she really, really isn't ready to pack up and move back, not when her life there is so different. "I like living in New York. I like Broadway, I like independence, I like… everything about it." Yes, her career hasn't quite taken off yet, but she'll get there. She knows she can, and he knows she can too.

"You get bigger houses for the same price here," he points out. Eleanor notes that he's oddly serious, missing the usual twinkle in his eye when he makes observations like this. She's vindicated when, after a few seconds of pause, he continues. "So, this trip to Spain… is it a coincidence, or was it your idea?"

It is her idea, but not for the reasons he thinks. She sighs, deciding to bite the bullet. "Why don't you just say what you're really thinking, Dad?"

He looks straight at her. "Fine. Are you going to look for Joyce there?"

There it is. Eleanor clutches her mug of coffee with both hands, not meeting her father's gaze.

Truth be told, she doesn't know yet. Spain was just a random name they'd tossed out while planning this hypothetical trip, having considered Bali, Fiji, Australia and Venezuela, among others. But somehow, it had stuck. And when her father told her about Joyce after Sharon's funeral… well, it made her all the more determined to go there. It's strange. She's almost excited that she will, at least, be in the same country as her birth mother for some time. Seeing her is just a bonus. And she still isn't sure if she's going to try.

"Eleanor," Kenneth says now, sounding almost pleading, "why don't you trust me?"

"Dad, this isn't about _trust_!" she says, knowing she's close to the end of her patience. "She's my _mom_!"

"Your mom?" Her father's voice has taken on an edge she's rarely heard before. "Has she ever called you? Asked after your well-being? Sharon is- was," he breaks off, and Eleanor feels guilt and hurt flood through her, "She was more your mother than Joyce will ever be. I hope you know that."

"You know what? Maybe she did call, and you never told me," she shoots back. "You didn't even feel the need to tell me about her until last year."

She loves Sharon, she does, but - ever since she's known she had another mother, the urge to find her has persistently gnawed at the back of her mind. And now - now she'll be so close. She can't leave Spain without meeting her mother… she just can't.

"Fine," her father says, and she knows he's given up the fight, now. "Do what you want, El. But remember what I said."

* * *

"I miss you already, babe."

"Alex, this is lame," Fabiola protests as his face lights up her phone on Skype. "We're literally in adjoining rooms. I can _hear_ you."

"Yes, but we won't be from tomorrow on," he says. "At least this way I know we can see each other every day."

Fabiola tries to smile at this, but suddenly feels a shiver course through her. Does she _want_ to see him every day? "Every day, Alex? C'mon. I'm on a vacation with my friends. My _bachelorette_ vacation. I'd think we don't need to see each other every day."

"Oh, but I'll miss you, you know that." He sounds strangely petulant now, and Fabiola is surprised at how much his tone annoys her. "What am I going to do all alone for three weeks?"

 _Try making yourself interesting_ , she thinks, before stopping that thought short in its tracks. What does that mean? Of course she thinks he's interesting. Why would she think otherwise? She ends the call and walks over to the other room, sitting down on the bed where Alex is already lying.

"You'll have plenty to do while I'm gone," she says. "Try to impress my family. Pick a theme for the wedding. Work out our budget. When I get back, we can finalise things."

He sits up too, reaching out to put an arm around her. "Come back soon, okay?"

"Yes, Alex, I will," she says, wondering when his presence started irritating her so much. "Now will you stop distracting me and help me pack?"

* * *

_He's got all his clothes, even work clothes, folded up neatly in his bag. He's got the purse Fabiola asked him to get for her fiance's mom. He's got his phone, laptop, and a schedule for any calls he'll have to attend in the next few days.He's never taken a break from work, not for the last three years. He'll be alright going on this one vacation, won't he? Fabiola deserves it, after all - he misses her, and she is one of his oldest friends. And Eleanor - well, they've had their issues in the past, but they can work through it for Fab's sake. At least, that's what he thinks._

_He shuts his eyes even as the plane takes off, trying to distract himself from thoughts of his upcoming commitments._

* * *

_She stares out of the window as the plane cruises through the air, her curly hair flopping over her eyes. She's incredibly excited for this trip - even, she sometimes thinks, a little_ too _excited. It's surprising how relieved she is at the prospect of being away from Alex for three whole weeks. She isn't supposed to want that, is she? Not so close to the wedding? Maybe she just wants to be away from all the stress of planning the event - yeah, that's probably it. When they're back, she'll be as happy to see him as ever, and they'll jump right back into the wedding preparations._

_She puts in her earphones, bobbing her head to the song playing, trying to forget everything but the fact that she's going on vacation._

* * *

_The plane touches down in Barcelona, and she immediately realises that this is where Joyce lives. Her mind is made up now to try and find her - but maybe it's best not to do it right now. Maybe it's best to enjoy her time with her friends, take part in the sports they've planned, and then, at the end, convince them to take part in this (silly, stupid, necessary) expedition. As for Ben - she won't say she's not nervous about seeing him again, but it's been years. He should have let it go. If he hasn't - well, she'll just have to make him._

_She looks out of the taxi window as it cruises through the streets of Barcelona, before finally pulling up to the hotel they're staying in for the first night. Well, now it begins._


	2. why don't we play a game that nobody loses?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> turns out i grossly (haha, grossly) underestimated the number of chapters this is gonna take, whoops

“So we aren’t going to Madrid?” Eleanor, sitting diagonally opposite to Ben, says as she frowns at a map of Spain she’s spread out on her lap. She’s wearing a long, ruffly pink skirt, and has tucked a silk rose of exactly the same shade behind one ear. Classic Eleanor, Ben thinks, almost fondly. “What’s the point of visiting a country without seeing its capital?”

Fabiola shrugs. “Well, guess that’s what happens when the three of us plan our portions of the trip independently.” She brushes away the map, whose corner keeps grazing her. “Why do you even have this map? I’m sure we can just use our phones.” She kicks idly at her suitcase, sitting on the floor in front of her. Check-in time at the hotel isn’t for another hour, so they’ve decided to use this time to plan out the itinerary.

Ben is about to agree with her, especially since he’s looking at the map on his phone anyway, when he remembers… “Hey, Fab, I’ve got what you wanted, give me a sec.” He reaches into the front pocket of his suitcase, pulling out a paper shopping bag.

“Hey, what’s in that?” El asks with interest, looking up from her map for a second. She hasn’t said it, but Ben is sure that she’s using the paper map just for the drama of it all. He’s honestly surprised she hasn’t just carried along a full-on globe.

“It’s a purse for Alex’s mom,” Fabiola says, taking the aforementioned purse out of the paper bag and examining it. “Dude, what have you done to it?” she says with a little amusement, looking at the dents in the purse.

“Be grateful I got it for you, okay?” Ben says. “It cost me fourteen thousand dollars.” _More than what either of you make in a year, probably_ , he doesn’t say. It’s the kind of language he uses around his corporate shark friends (well, ‘friends’) and his insufferable extended family, not Fab and El. They don’t deserve that.

“Fourteen thou-” Eleanor stares at him with wide eyes. “Fourteen thousand dollars just for this purse?”

“Auntie loves these bags,” Fabiola says, even if she seems a little starry-eyed at the price tag.

“I love makeup, Ben,” Eleanor cuts in. “If you ever want to buy up Sephora for me, please don’t hesitate. Oh, or get me front-row tickets for _Hamilton_. I love plays too.”

This last bit is completely unnecessary; Ben knows Eleanor has been a drama fanatic ever since she was a child. Whether it referred to actual theater, or interpersonal fights, she’s always been at the center of everything that one could call ‘drama’. And as for him? Well - his friends always have been a little starstruck by the kind of money he’s been able to throw around. He’s sometimes felt a little alienated because of this - but, he’s found, the best way to deal with it was just to share what he could with his friends.

“Hey,” Fabiola says, cutting off any response Ben can make before he tries. “They’re calling us to check in, apparently they got the room ready early. Ben, you don’t mind us all staying in one room tonight, do you?”

He looks back at the receptionist, who’s waving them over. “It’s just one night, yeah? And I’m pretty sure it’s a suite, not a room. I think we’ll be okay. We’re leaving tomorrow anyway, for-” He stops, realising he doesn’t actually know where they’re going yet. His destination is second on the list, and he’s not aware of the first one, which is Fab’s choice. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“Costa Brava,” Fabiola says, struggling to pick up her suitcase from its position on the ground. Next to her, Eleanor’s folded up her map, and slung her two large rucksacks over her shoulder, ready to move. “That’s my choice. We’re spending a week there, then it’s Ben’s destination. Tell us what you’ve planned, Ben.”

Ben smiles. “I’m taking you to Seville.” He doesn’t yet want to reveal what he’s got planned, so waits for Eleanor to pick up her end of the conversation. Predictably, she does that almost immediately, as they’re walking over to the front desk.

“And I will be taking you both to Pamplona,” she says. “And then… back to our old, monotonous, boring life.” The receptionist hands them two keys, and she takes both of them. “So, I’m gonna go for a walk after we check in. Who wants to join me?”

The hotel is all on one floor, thankfully, so there’s no lugging of baggage up and down stairs or elevators to be had. Ben, wheeling his suitcase behind him, is walking down the corridor, only half-listening to Eleanor’s chatter. Does he have any meetings today? Or any calls to make? He’ll have to check once they get into the room…

“I’ll come,” Fabiola says. “May as well have a look around this area, even if we aren’t here for long. What say, Ben? Let’s go take a walk!” She slides the key into its keyhole, unlocking their suite for them.

“No, Fab, I can’t. Sorry,” he says, walking into the room and sitting down heavily on the sofa. “I have to make some calls to a client. You two go ahead, enjoy yourselves. Adios, amigos!” Without waiting for a response, he moves into the smaller bedroom. He does feel a little guilty about blowing off his friends like that, but - well, this is a necessary call. And they have three whole weeks ahead of them to spend time together, so he doesn’t know why they’d be upset either.

He looks up, only to be met with two downcast faces.

“Come on, guys,” he says. “I really have to make this call. I’ll move your bags in when I’m done too. Promise.”

Eleanor sighs, and he knows it’s probably exaggerated for effect, but he can see the disappointment on her face. “Benjamin, you really need to lighten up. We’re on holiday.” Still, she seems to concede the point, and continues, “Then you better move our bags into our room for us, and treat us to dinner tonight. You owe us that much.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Fabiola cuts in. “We’re letting you go today, because it’s the first day, but don’t expect it from tomorrow.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  


"Ben, man, I wish you'd come with us," Eleanor says, just before she takes the first sip of the cocktail in front of her. "This place is beautiful."

As Fabiola chimes in with her agreement, Eleanor reflects on what she's discovered during the walk. The theatre company that her mother headed here shut down a couple years ago, and when she stopped by the building, she was told that Joyce had relocated to Seville.

"Eleanor wants to meet this one theatre artist, she dragged me all over town looking for her studio," Fabiola tells Ben. "Joyce something." El, not wanting to reveal much more, just nods tightly.

"Well, I'm glad you girls had fun," Ben says, sounding considerably more genial than she's heard him in a long time. "But I stayed in and made a three-thousand-dollar commission, so excuse me if I don't complain. Cheers." He raises his glass, and Eleanor clinks it with hers.

"Hey, Ben," Fabiola says, and Eleanor looks at her, wondering what's coming next, "There's something interesting I've heard about you."

_Ah, yes, the old psych trick._ Even if Eleanor knows what's coming, she's curious what Ben will talk about - so she fixes a quizzical expression on her face, and looks over at Fabiola.

"What?" Ben says, sounding curious.

"Oh, don't play dumb, Ben, you know what." Fab's putting on such a good show of seriousness that Eleanor suddenly wants to nominate her for a Tony.

"Oh, god," Ben says, sighing and putting a hand to his forehead. "Patty told you, didn't she?"

Fabiola nods. "Yup."

"I love that woman, but she needs to keep her mouth shut sometimes," Ben says, now shaking his head, looking embarrassed. "Why did she tell you? I told her not to tell anyone!"

Fabiola just shakes her head sympathetically, and Eleanor follows her lead. It's best to just let him talk for now.

"So my parents have this family they're friends with," he begins, "and their daughter - Zora - is around our age. Last time I was visiting them, that family was over for dinner, too… and somehow, they started talking about what a lovely match we'd make."

Eleanor bursts into giggles at this. "Oh, boy. Old-fashioned matchmaking. What happened next?"

"I didn't like her," Ben says, sounding really irritated now. "But obviously, I couldn't say that, so I was just nodding along. But then _she_ said she'd never date me in a million years!"

"So…?" Eleanor says, prompting him to talk more.

"So nothing, man," Ben says. "I don't understand why Patty had to tell you. What's wrong with her?"

Eleanor looks at Fabiola. Fabiola looks at Eleanor. A second later, both of them collapse in helpless laughter.

"Guys," Ben says, his voice starting to take on a note of terror. "Guys, what's going on?"

His face is enough for El to be overcome by a second wave of laughter, and despite his irritation, neither of them stop until a minute or so later.

"Patty didn't tell me anything," Fabiola says, slowly beginning to smile.

"It's her latest trick," Eleanor adds. "And you're its latest victim. Cheers!" She raises her glass again.

Ben shakes his head at her, still clearly annoyed, but evidently struggling to contain his amusement. "Grow up, El. How old are you now? I'd thought you'd have outgrown all this funny business."

Eleanor won't pretend she doesn't feel a slight pang of hurt at that, but she brushes it away. "C'mon, Ben. Let's have a round of shots. To Zora?"

"A toast to Zora," Fabiola echoes.

"Not for me," Ben says almost immediately. "I've got a conference call in an hour. Got to keep my faculties in order." He turns away so his back is to El, and she mouths _faculties_ in an exaggerated manner, to which Fabiola cracks a grin.

"So that's still your plan, huh?" Fab asks Ben, moving her head a little closer to his. "Hustle till you're forty, then retire and enjoy life?"

"Yup, that's the plan!" Ben looks extremely satisfied with his life philosophy, Eleanor thinks. If it was her, that sort of life would bore her half to death. Or fully to death, honestly.

"Listen, Ben, all jokes apart," Fabiola says, sounding a lot more serious, "thank you so much for coming along with us on this trip. You have no idea how much it means to me."

"Yeah," Ben says, giving his friend a small, but sincere smile, "I'm sure it does, Fab."  
  
  


* * *

  


Fabiola is, somehow, the most rational and practical of her three friends. It's a low bar, but both Ben and El tend to be so temperamental and/or dramatic that she comes off looking like the sane one. And so, for their trip through the country, she'd booked an SUV. She'd assumed it would be comfortable enough to carry them for three weeks, and no one would have a complaint with it.

But _of course_ , when they went to pick up the car, El had spotted a blue convertible, and begged her to rent that instead. Unlucky for them that she'd already paid for the SUV, Fabiola thinks, as she watches Ben drive through the mountains with an expression on his face that, in her opinion, is far too intense. She does like the feeling of wind in her hair, that she can't deny; maybe she'll swap it out at some point.

She turns back to look at Eleanor, who has a window open, is happily sunning herself, and has lovingly placed the purse Ben's bought on the other backseat. "El," she says, "what are you doing with that purse?"

Eleanor opens her eyes, and whips off her sunglasses rather dramatically. "Fourteen thousand dollars, Fab. She deserves a seat of honour. I bet _we_ wouldn't be worth that much if you sold our organs on the black market."

Fabiola smiles, and a silence falls over the car for another few minutes - at least, until Ben's phone starts to ring. She doesn't really pay attention to what he says; but as soon as he ends the call, he pulls up near a bend in the hilly road, and jumps out of the car. "Guys, I need ten minutes," he says, as he rushes to the trunk of the car and takes out his laptop. "I've got a very important call with a client." He pulls on a vest and haphazardly loops a tie around his collar.

Eleanor groans. "Now, Ben? Really?"

But Ben doesn't seem to pay any heed to her, hurriedly opening the laptop. She sighs, and begins walking away to a slight distance from the car. Fabiola, shrugging, follows her.

"What kind of idiot takes work calls in the middle of a road trip?" she asks, almost rhetorically. "And that too, in the middle of the actual driving parts of the road trip."

Eleanor shakes her head sorrowfully. "Our idiot, apparently." They look over at Ben again, who is bowing and scraping rather ridiculously, and speaking rapid-fire Japanese. " _Moshi moshi_?" she says incredulously.

"It means hello in Japanese." Fabiola can't stop herself from giggling either; Ben really does look silly.

"Fabiola," Eleanor says very seriously. "Look around you. Look at this amazing view."

Fabiola obliges her, letting her eyes sweep over the mountainside, the trees dotting the sides of the road, and taking in the sun-drenched look of the entire scene.

"Now look at our poor friend," Eleanor says, pointing at Ben. Fabiola, trying to listen into his conversation, is only able to make out about half of what he's saying.

"-you'll have the docket with you in three days. I assure you, I will always be here for you, Yamamoto-san."

"Man, what happened to him?" Eleanor says softly. "He was always competitive in school, sure, but… never like this."

"If you ask me," Fabiola says, "the boy has gone cuckoo." She whirls her finger around her temple, trying to put on her best impression of their school principal. "Ben, boy, you are cuckoo. You need a psychotrist."

"Psychotrist," Eleanor repeats thoughtfully. She's just picked up a spray of tiny white flowers from the ground, and she tucks it behind Fabiola's ear. "Are you trying to imitate Shapiro?"

"Nah, I was doing Grubbs, not Shapiro," Fabiola says. "Shapiro- god, what would he have said?" She screws up her face, trying to think. "'Ben, this is not lit behaviour. You need therapy. Therapy will help you feel one-hundred-emoji again.'"

"One hundred emoji," Eleanor repeats, laughing. "You nailed it, my _boy_."

"Thank you, Yamamoto-san," Ben finishes, and begins walking towards the two of them. "Guys, c'mon, let's go. I'm done."

Some time later, they're driving on a particularly steep road, when Fabiola looks at the backseat. To her surprise, Eleanor has placed a sunhat and her sunglasses on the purse.

"El, what's that?" she asks, waking up her friend, whose eyes are shut.

"Huh?" Eleanor says. "Oh, yes, her." She strokes the hat on the purse. "Meet Purse-illa."

Ben looks at her incredulously. "Purse-illa?"

"Yeah, like Priscilla," she says, grinning. "She's my new best friend. Or-wait. Should I have named her Bag-heera instead?"

Fabiola shakes her head. "Eleanor, when did you start making dad jokes? Are you sick or something?" She reaches out her hand to feel Eleanor's forehead.

"Yes, unfortunately, I got it from you," El says, sighing. Ben, apparently oblivious to the remainder of the conversation, carries on driving.

A few minutes later, he gets a call again. Fabiola groans audibly, but hey, she can't stop him, can she? "Somebody please throw his phone out," she grouses.

"Hey, yeah, Joe, I spoke to Mr. Yamamoto-" Ben begins, when, to Fabiola's surprise (and presumably his too), Eleanor grabs his phone, and chucks it out of the window.

Ben slams hard on the brakes, and the car screeches to a halt. "Eleanor, _what the fuck_?" he shouts. "What the fuck, Eleanor! Go get my phone!"

"I'm sorry, dude, I'm sorry," Fabiola says, keeping a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him. "I didn't think she'd actually do it!"

"Of course you didn't," Ben says. "Now go, go look for it."

"Don't be silly," Eleanor replies. "We won't find it here."

"Silly?" he says, his voice rising to a shout again. "Silly? You're the one who threw my phone out of a moving car, you moron! Go and find it now!"

Defeated, Eleanor holds up her hands, and walks back to look for it. She returns a minute later, the phone in her hand. "It's crushed, Ben, I'm sorry. You'll have to get a new phone. Lucky we even found it."

He almost snatches the remains of the phone from her, not looking at her. "Fabiola," he says, his voice shaking, "tell me to slap her."

"Ben," Fabiola says, eyes going wide in shock. She does realise how much the two of them have been getting on each other's nerves since the trip began, but- slapping her? That is going a bit too far.

"No," he insists, "just tell me to slap her."

"Ben," Eleanor says, almost pleading. "I'm sorry. I was just joking." The rose in her hair has come undone, and her eyes are wide, quivering with unshed tears. Fabiola wants to sympathise with her, but… it is her fault, honestly. "I'll buy you a new phone."

"It's not funny, El. That call was important," Ben spits. "You think being the funny, quirky, dramatic one gives you the license to do anything? Even throwing away an expensive smartphone?" He is once more on the verge of shouting. "It's always 'oh, classic Eleanor, she did this, she's so funny', and 'oh, Eleanor did that, she's so extra'! It's not funny all the time, okay? Grow up! Throwing my phone out of a window is not funny!" He pauses, heaving a few deep breaths. "Lying about my girlfriend so I break up with her? That's not fucking quirky or funny either!"

"Ben, don't be ridiculous," Eleanor says, pulling his shoulder so he faces her. "It's been five years now. I've apologised for it so many times. Why can't you just let it go?"

"Or what?" Ben says, grabbing her hand and shoving it off himself in disgust. "What will you do if I don't, huh?"

Fabiola, watching all this in silent shock, isn't quite sure what to do. Neither of them is completely right or completely wrong. But both of them are behaving incredibly childish right now, and the only thing she can do is put herself between them. So she does.

"Stop it, you two, you're acting like kids," she says, muscling her way between the two of them, who are still glaring daggers at each other. "If you have a problem with each other, deal with it. Like adults. Don't do this nonsense."

"Who are you to judge the situation?" Ben says sullenly, not looking at her.

"Is there anyone else here?" she counters. "Look at me now, you two. Listen to me." She inhales, trying to recall the incident from five years ago. Who was right, who was wrong- she can't even remember any details. Luckily, she doesn't have to.

"I don't have any problems with him," Eleanor says almost immediately. "He's the one with the stick up his ass."

"Oh, I have a stick up my ass, huh," Ben says. "Shira was my girlfriend, Eleanor. I loved her. I wanted to marry her. And you…"

"Oh, please," Eleanor scoffs. "Shira didn't care one bit about you. You're lucky I got you out of that situation, Ben, trust me. You should be thanking me."

"Yeah, sure, I should be thanking you, El," Ben says sarcastically. "Thank you for telling me she was cheating when she wasn't. Thank you for convincing me to break up with her so cruelly that I lost almost all of my friends. Thank you _so_ much." His expression, now… it's less angry, more just hurt. "I'd never do anything like that to you, El. I hope you know that."

"What do I do, then, Ben?" Eleanor says, the tears in her eyes finally spilling over. "I screwed up, okay? I wanted to help you, and I hurt you. It's done. What do I do now? Should I tattoo 'Ben, I'm sorry' on my forehead? Huh?"

Fabiola pushes her way between the two of them, again, before the situation gets any worse. "Now you two listen to me," she says, gripping both of their shoulders firmly. "You," she says, turning to Ben. "Look, none of us liked Shira. She was an awful girlfriend to you. You've got to admit that. Did you two ever even do anything together which didn't involve either spending your money or posting on social media?" Ben opens his mouth, probably to protest, but she barrels on. "And you, El," she says, facing her now. "We had our opinions on Shira. Sure. But you really should not have lied to Ben about her. That was a very unethical thing to do, and it hurt him more than it helped him. I hope you know that."

She breaks off for a second, looking at her friends' faces, before continuing. "Listen, Shira of all people is not worth carrying so much hurt over. She was a waste of time then, and she's a waste of time now. It's because of her that we cancelled this trip four years ago. Please, can we not let her ruin it this time?"

Eleanor sighs. "Okay, Fab. For you." She turns to Ben again. "I'll apologise a million times, if you want- but tell me when you'll accept it."

He finally looks directly at her, sounding a little calmer. "I'll accept your apology when you mean it, El."  
  
  


* * *

  


"Hey, honey. Yeah, yeah, we just got to Costa Brava, we're at the beach. It's beautiful here…" Fabiola sounds utterly bored, and she soon shuts off her phone, sighing. "He keeps calling. Why does he keep calling?" She scrolls through her texts, and her face brightens up. "Hey, El, come here, let's take a selfie. Eve wants me to send her some photos."

Eleanor obliges, ducking her head into the frame and grinning at the camera. "Tell her hi from me."

Fabiola sends the photo, then carries on clicking pictures of the sea and horizon, happily oblivious to everything else. Meanwhile, Eleanor looks lazily around the beach, filled with young, beautiful tourists. "Ben, we both have got to snag somebody here. Look at how pretty everyone is." She notices he's still fully-dressed, and groans. "Dude, why are you wearing work clothes to the _beach_?"

A few minutes of sightseeing pass, until a girl standing in the sea catches Eleanor's eye. She's rather short, with dark skin and long black hair; the way her head is turned, Eleanor can only see half her face, but she really is beautiful. Despite her small frame, her body looks fit and athletic, and her eyes are shut as she lets the waves wash over her feet.

"Ben," Eleanor says, poking her friend in the side. "Look at that girl. She's gorgeous."

Ben squints through his sunglasses at her, before looking at El and nodding. "Yeah, and?"

"And? Come on, Ben, don't let us down," Eleanor says. "Go, try inviting her for a drink with us." This could go really well, or really badly, she reflects. If it goes really well- well, good for Ben. If it goes badly, it'll be entertaining for her. Either way, she's in earshot of the girl, so she can listen in to the conversation, no matter how it ends up.

Ben mutters a few silent curses under his breath, but gets up anyway. "If this goes badly, you are going to owe me so hard, El." He rolls up his sleeves and trousers, and ventures out with all the caution of a prey animal in the forest at twilight.

Eleanor just grins, spreading herself out on the lounge chair, watching Ben go up to his unfortunate mark. "Showtime," she whispers under her breath.  
  
  


* * *

  


"Why am I doing this?" Ben says to himself with gritted teeth as he approaches the girl standing in the sea. She isn't even that pretty-

But then the girl turns her head, and he's struck speechless by how pretty she, in fact, is. " _Hola_ ," she says, giving him a polite smile.

" _Hola, me llamo Ben Gross_ ," he says, thanking God for the basic Spanish he can speak. " _Y tù_?" It’s been years, though, and he’s aware of how shaky and strange his voice sounds.

“Wow,” the girl says, laughing. “Excellent Spanish, there. I almost had you confused with a native speaker.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Devi.” Her accent is strongly American, which is at least a little surprising.

Ben scowls at her. Beautiful she may be, but she’s already getting on his nerves. And what’s her name again? Maybe the sea didn’t let him catch it properly. “I’m sorry, did you say your name was David?” he says. He’s almost sure it isn’t, but if she’s going to be snarky with him, he can give as good as he gets.

“Devi,” she says, more slowly, as if she’s speaking to a child. “It’s pronounced like _They-we_. Should I make myself clearer?” She’s scowling at him, too, now, and Ben regrets his decision to ever come here in the first place. It really isn’t worth the embarrassment.

“Nah, I like David,” he says, even though he’s heard her name now. He’s definitely got no chance with her at this point, so he may as well be a dick for some time. “So you’re American?”

“Yeah, more or less,” she says. “My parents are Indian, though. We live- lived in San Diego.”

“Oh, wow. My friends and I are from LA,” Ben says, brightening up. “Maybe our paths crossed at some point.” It’s a long shot, but… when he was in school, Ben was constantly travelling all over the state, for debates, model UNs, spelling bees, science exhibitions and the like. Maybe she’d seen him at some point.

Devi hums non-committally at that, and a gust of cold air blows across the beach, sending her hair flying across her face. “Ugh, sorry, give me a minute,” she says. Pulling a hair tie from her wrist, she twists her hair into a tight bun and ties it up so it rests at the top of her head. “Yeah, go on.”

Ben wants to reply, but can’t. Now that her hair is up and her face is clearly visible, she’s starting to look strangely familiar… “Devi,” he says slowly, forgetting to even call her David.

“Yeah?” Devi says, cocking her head at him.

“This is going to sound strange, but… were you at a Model UN conference in Sacramento around… ten years ago?” If it isn’t her, well, Ben is in for a great deal of embarrassment. If it is… honestly, he’s in for some embarrassment even then.

“Sacramento.” She screws up her eyes, thinking, before nodding. “Yeah, I think I was. Jesus, have you been stalking me since then?” Her eyes go wide, and she steps away from him. “Why am I even still talking to you?”

Ben steps closer to her quickly. “No, no, no, no, no,” he says, trying to salvage the situation. “No. I’m trying to say, I was at that conference too. Same committee. Remember? Security Council? USA?” He points to himself, hoping she’ll remember. Even if she does, though, it isn’t a particularly good memory, so -

The memory seems to hit her in the back of her head, and she blinks many times in succession without saying anything. “You!” is all she can say, laughing incredulously and pointing at him. “Oh my god, you.”

“I think it’s me who should be reacting like that,” Ben says. “Don’t you remember asking all member countries to block the USA from international trade, Miss Equatorial Guinea?”

“Well, that was only because you were an asshole,” Devi counters, placing her hands on her hips to glare at him. “I’m surprised your nose isn’t still brown from how far up the chair’s ass it was that day. What was it you ordered for dinner to suck up to him? _Gold truffle pizza?_ ”

“First of all, there was no gold in that pizza,” Ben objects. “And second, it was amazing. The whole committee had some. Only you and your gang of loyalists refused to, because you thought you were being _noble_ or something. Well, guess who won the gavel, _David_.” He smirks at her, waiting for her to respond.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I ran into you here, of all places,” she grumbles. “I don’t want to ruin this trip.” She begins striding out of the sea, making large splashes with her feet, and before Ben can reply to her, she’s gone.  
  
  


* * *

  


“El, what’s this?” Ben yelps, looking at the little flip phone she’s bought for him. It’s hot pink, with a silver charm dangling from it that reads ‘Boss Bitch’, and she’s very proud of it. Honestly, had she been old enough to own a phone when flip phones were all the rage, this is exactly the phone she’d choose for herself.

“Well,” Eleanor says, “it’s your new phone. You said I had to get you a new phone, you never specified what kind you want.” She kicks her legs upwards, resting them on the small table in front of the sofa. “I’d have killed to have a phone like this, Ben, you have no idea how lucky you are. Also,” she continues, pointing to the charm, “you’re a boss, and you’re a bitch. So this fits, too.”

“Fuck’s sake, El,” Ben says, shoving her lightly. “I’m a trader, not a Japanese schoolgirl.”

“ _Moshi moshi_ ,” she teases, and he looks like he’s on the verge of exploding again. Thankfully, before either of them can say anything more, Fabiola walks up to them, slamming her hands down on the sofa to catch their attention.

“Guys, it’s time to reveal what I’ve planned for us here,” she says, handing them a glossy brochure each. “Deep sea diving! Exciting, right?”

It is exciting, for sure. Eleanor grins as she leafs through the brochure, but a few seconds later, realises that Ben is looking both irritated and a little green.

“Fab, dude,” he says. “Why are you turning this into a ‘let’s-torture-Ben’ vacation? What did I ever do to you?”

“Relax, Ben,” Fabiola says, kneeling down and gripping his shoulders. “I spoke to the people at the diving school. You don’t need to know how to swim. _And_ we’re getting five days’ training. Tomorrow’s our first day.”

Eleanor scoots closer to him, too, placing a hand on his arm. “Think about it, Ben. The deep sea’s gonna be so beautiful. And the fishes, corals… and there’ll be someone to take care of us if we’re having trouble. There’s no need to worry.”

“I know you’re afraid of water,” Fabiola continues. “So if you don’t want to do it, it’s okay. Really. No one is going to force you.”

Ben shuts his eyes for a long time, while Eleanor exchanges a worried gaze with Fabiola. Maybe he really is going to chicken out. And then- well, this week isn’t going to be nearly as fun, she thinks with despair.

“Fine,” he says, finally. “I’ll do it.”  
  
  


* * *

  


The morning dawns bright and early, and Ben, Fabiola and Eleanor are waiting at their assigned point with wetsuits on. Ben still isn’t sure about this, as his six hours of research on potential deaths during scuba diving can attest to - but hey, it could be fun, so here he is.

“The instructor should be here in a couple minutes,” Fabiola says, checking her watch. “Good that we’re here early.”

Ben nods, and continues staring out at the sea - or rather, the lagoon they’re going to be practicing in. It doesn’t look terribly deep, but then again, appearances are very often deceptive. His mind is spiraling into worst-case-scenario thoughts again, when he hears footsteps approaching.

“Fabiola Torres?” a soft and oddly familiar voice says from behind him, and he turns.

“Oh, it’s you, David.”

“It’s me,” Devi says, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I teach diving. Big surprise, there, Gross?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is devi! someone in the comments guessed what character she was gonna be, and they were right, but i obviously had to change the dynamic a bit, cause what's a benvi story without bickering and competition? hope you're liking it so far!


	3. lost somewhere between the sky and the earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a slightly different chapter - there will be a few chapters like this, entirely from one person's perspective, sprinkled throughout, and this was quite fun to write, too!

“So,” Devi says, sitting on a rock opposite the three of them, “for obvious reasons, it’s hard to communicate underwater.” _Because we didn’t know that already,_ Ben thinks a little sourly. But so far, Devi has been - well, mostly professional, apart from the constant eyerolls. Then again, he isn’t really letting up on those either, so it’s not like he can entirely blame her.

“There are a few hand gestures you’re going to have to learn, so follow me.” She points her thumb upwards- “Up,” then downwards, “down,” joins her forefinger and thumb, “okay,” rocks an outstretched palm, “not okay,” holds up her hand and draws a circle in front of it with the other one, “ and air gauge. Okay?”

“Okay,” chorus Fabiola and Eleanor, making the appropriate gesture. They really have warmed to her very fast, Ben reflects; it’s almost like they’ve known each other forever, really, judging by the level of comfort they already seem to have. Almost as soon as he completes his thought, Devi’s snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Okay, Gross?”

“Okay, David,” he says sullenly, gesturing for a fraction of a second before flipping her off.

Devi glares at him. “You are _so_ lucky I’m getting paid for this. What are you, Janis Ian?”

"Oh, wow, you're familiar with _Mean Girls_? Of course, it must've seemed more like an instruction manual to you."

She purses her lips, turning back to the other two, who honestly just seem amused by the entire thing. Ben isn't sure how amused he is - he isn't sure what his feelings are on all this at all, honestly. It's a stupid grudge he's held against Devi for years, when he didn't even know her name or anything else about her, and evidently she's held it too. _Well. Guess that's what happens when you put two petty, competitive people together._ But he’s terrified of what’s coming, and he’s going to need her guidance if he wants any hope of staying alive.

“He’s scared of water,” Fabiola supplies, in a neutral, completely non-mocking tone. “Maybe that’s why he’s so uptight around you, Devi.”

“I think he’s plenty uptight by himself,” Devi says, scoffing. But the next minute, her tone turns much softer. “You didn’t tell me you were scared of water.”

“I’m not,” Ben lies, even though he’s sure his face gives it away. Admitting this in front of _her_ \- well, he would honestly rather die. Devi shakes her head, and he’s almost sure he’s imagining it, but he thinks he sees her smile soften into a less smug and more sympathetic one. The next minute, though, she seems to shake herself, and assumes the same professional demeanour she’s had (for the most part) all this while.

"I see you already changed into your wetsuits, that’s great,” she says, standing up and hoisting a large bag from the ground. “There’s some more equipment you’re going to need.” She starts unpacking the bag, and helping to kit out each of them with the equipment. “This is your buoyancy control device, or BCD- these are weights that help you stay underwater- goggles to protect your eyes- and these are flippers to help you swim.”

Ben’s silent absorbance of her instructions is interrupted by a horrible hacking cough while he's pulling on his flippers. He turns, and Fabiola is doubled over, still coughing. “I- swallowed too much of the oxygen,” she says weakly, coming up with watery eyes.

“It’s okay,” Devi says, patting her shoulder. “You’ll get used to it quickly. Now, who’s ready to go?” She jumps into the water. “C’mon!”

Fabiola and Eleanor follow her lead almost immediately, bouncing into the water without a care. “C’mon, Ben!” Eleanor shouts, beckoning at him as she bobs up and down. “Let’s do this!” She spins around in the water, wobbling and struggling to keep herself afloat, but still looking like she’s thoroughly enjoying herself.

Ben stares down at the clear blue pool of water, tentatively dipping a foot into it. It’s cold- really cold. He shakes his head, slowly moving his other foot closer to it, still hesitant. _what if i drown what if i slip and hit my head what if a ray stings me are rays even native to Spain wait no they aren’t but wait i think rising temperatures are bringing them here-_

Devi swims over to where he’s standing, and he half expects her to mock him again- but to his surprise, she just smiles, and holds out her hand. Taking a deep breath, he puts the oxygen valve in his mouth, and grabs it, letting her lead him in. His head hits the water, and then- then, everything is blue.  


* * *

  
Ben really still isn’t sure if he’s ready for this. Breathing while his head is above water is fine, and he’s snuck in a few glances underwater while Fabiola and Eleanor are getting their training - but the thought of being completely underwater still makes his limbs freeze up. He sees Devi finish up with Eleanor and start to swim over to him, and he ducks his head into the water, willing himself to stay there.

He flails his arms and legs in the water, struggling to move upwards again. Trying to inhale from the oxygen valve, he only chokes. _where is the surface where is it where is it where is it i can’t do this i can’t i can’t-_

And then, Devi is in front of him, a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down with gestures. She moves her hands upwards, and Ben can tell she’s trying to tell him to breathe- _I can’t breathe, I can’t_ , he thinks, shaking his head vigorously.

She points to him, then touches his valve, then points to hers. _Remove yours, and use mine._ The very thought is enough to make him fervently gesture _no_ \- even a few seconds without the oxygen seem unbearable. But then she’s holding him, steadying him, and pulls it out for a few seconds before putting her own valve in his mouth. _One, two,_ she counts on her fingers as he inhales, before pulling it out and stretching out a hand. _Hold your breath._

Ben can only attempt this for about two seconds before his nose feels like it’s on fire, and he exhales a long string of bubbles as he flails up and down again. _Up, up,_ he gestures with his thumb- this is too difficult for him. He’s finally figured out that he’s only supposed to inhale and exhale through the valve, but- he can’t.

After he puts it back in his mouth, Devi grabs hold of the collar of his wetsuit, pointing to his eyes, then to her own. _Look at me._ As he inhales, his eyes are fixed on hers, and honestly- even if they’re obscured by goggles, he can hardly look away. The next time she removes the valve, he barely even notices it, holding his breath almost without thinking of it.

She claps him on his shoulder, and raises her hand for a high-five. _I did it,_ he thinks as he returns it with as much strength as he can muster underwater.  


* * *

  
It’s been five days since they started training. Ben’s found it easier and easier every day - but then, he realised, they aren’t going to be diving in that little lagoon. They’ll be going into the sea. And now, as their boat moves into the ocean and he can’t even see the shore, the reality is hitting him more than it ever has before. He stares into the clear blue water, his thoughts spiralling.

“Ready, Gross?” Devi asks him, breaking him out of his reverie. It’s funny - when they’re ashore, their relationship isn’t any less antagonistic than it was when training began. Both Fab and El have grown exhausted of their bickering, and tried to dominate the conversation as much as possible so it doesn't break out. But somehow, it always, always does. There's always _something_ that can set one of them off, and when that happens, it's very hard to stop them. But when they're underwater… well, that's a different story entirely.

He shakes his head at her. She deserves his honesty, at least; she's done so much for him over the past five days.

"Trust me," she says, a wry smile on her face. "Your life is going to change, Ben."

He scoffs. "If I stay alive after this, you mean."

Devi laughs. “We’ll see.” And then, before he knows it, they’re down in the deep sea.

Later, Ben will think of this moment as the time his life changed, and changed for the better. He’ll say it woke up something in him, something that even he hadn’t realised he’d lost. He will smile wistfully, recalling how terrified he was, and how, eventually, the terror ebbed away.

But now, now it’s just him, and his friends, and Devi, and the expanse of water before them.

He swims close to a school of bright orange fish, watching them disperse as he approaches, and smiles. In front of him stretches a vividly yellow coral reef, filled with yet more fish, yet more life, all going about their day. There’s a ray swimming close to the ocean floor, below him - and while he does feel a brief flash of terror, it just as quickly goes away when he reminds himself that there are very few animals that attack unprovoked. He rolls around in the water, trying to take in everything, grinning at his friends. _Why did I ever refuse to do this,_ he wonders.

He begins swimming faster and faster, leaving the others behind, eventually coming up in front of a truly massive green reef. Feeling an eagerness to explore that he rarely has felt before, he makes a dash forward, but is stopped by someone grabbing his hand, and he turns.

Devi is smiling at him.

She isn’t smirking, or laughing, or any of the many expressions they’ve been trading through the week - it’s a honest-to-God, sincere, bright smile, and it lights up her face, even despite the goggles, despite the fact that they’re literally underwater. She points to herself, then to him, then to the reef - _just you and me, let’s go_. And go, he does.

Hand in hand, they swim through the reef, seeing yet more life, yet more colours and activity. _There’s an entire world down here,_ Ben thinks. There’s an entire ecosystem, full of living creatures, that exist here, away from the sight of humans, unaffected by them. (Well - not entirely unaffected. But that’s a different discussion.) He knew there were living creatures in the sea - everyone learns that, everyone knows it deep down - but somehow, when he thought of the ocean, he never considered that there could be so much down here.

And Devi - Devi is the other thing he’s thinking about. On land, they push each other’s buttons, they argue, they squabble - even if, now, there’s a friendly undercurrent to their bickering, they definitely still bicker. But here, under water, there’s a certain peace to their relationship, which even he can’t explain. Here, they can swim together for what feels like hours, and he doesn’t think he’d ever once get annoyed with her. _It’s probably because we aren’t speaking to each other_ , he thinks, and the thought makes him want to laugh even more.

She pulls at his hand again, trying to catch his attention - she’s shining a torch at an anemone, whose bristles move depending on where the light is hitting it. Ben takes the torch from her, wiggling it, making the bristles dance. He thinks she smiles at this, but he can’t quite tell.

 _Up?_ she gestures with her thumb, and he nods, swimming out of the reef and upwards, looking back at her. They circle each other as they rise, and then Devi spots the ladder to the boat, letting go of his hand and paddling to the surface. As her body disappears above the water, he follows suit.

A few moments later, his head breaks the surface, and he makes his way onto the boat, breathing heavily. He sits down, takes off all his equipment, and then, takes a long, slow look around at everything. At the rolling sea, at the people on the boat with him - and then, to his surprise, he begins to cry.  


* * *

  
“Cheers to our wonderful dive!” Eleanor says, holding her cocktail glass high in the air. “And to you, Devi, for being an amazing instructor and a great new friend.” She clinks her glass with Devi’s energetically, before holding out her hand for a fist-bump.

Devi returns the fist-bump, grinning at her. “Cheers to you, too, for all being excellent students. Even you, Gross,” she adds cheekily in an aside, and Ben rolls his eyes at her, albeit more fondly than irritably.

“What, you didn’t expect it? I’m the best student anyone could ask for. I absolutely crush it at being a student,” he says.

Devi scoffs a laugh at that. “God, you really won’t let up on being defensive, will you? Anyway,” she continues after taking a swig from her beer, “when’s your wedding, Fabs?”

“Oh, um, in two months,” Fabiola, who’s been distracted by her phone for some time, says.

“That’s like… now,” Devi says. “Aren’t you nervous?”

“Well, yeah, I am,” Fab admits, toying with a strand of her hair. “But there’s nothing to complain about with Alex, really. He’s super nice, I’ve never had any issues with him.”

“How long have you been together?” Devi presses further.

“Six months,” Fabiola says, giving her a shaky smile. “Yeah, I know what you’re gonna say - it’s too early.”

“No, of course not!” Devi says, sounding as if she’d never even entertain the thought. “I guess when you know it’s right, you just know.”

“Yeah, man, that’s what everyone is saying,” Fabiola says. “Who am I to disagree with everyone?”

Ben hasn’t met Alex, even if he has seen pictures - but he can tell Fabiola doesn’t sound terribly enthusiastic about him. He knows what she sounds like when she’s excited - when she first built a robot to serve her friends coffee, she gushed about everything about it, from its planning, to building, to programming, for weeks. And if she can sound more enthusiastic about a robot than her actual, real-life, flesh-and-blood fiance - well, on one hand, that’s sort of par for the course for Fab. But on the other, this just isn’t normal for someone two months away from their wedding.

“What does your guy do?” Devi asks, before hastening to clarify. “Like, in life, what does he do?”

“He’s an engineer too, we met at a workplace assignment.” Fabiola smiles, finally looking at least slightly happy, and Ben feels just a little bit calmer.

“Don’t forget, his dad’s a huge real estate guy,” he interjects. “His hotel business is evaluated at, I don’t know, ten billion dollars?”

“I’m not marrying him for his _money_ ,” Fab says, sounding affronted at the very thought. “Is that really what you think of me, Ben?”

“No, no, of course not,” he says, before adding, “Well, but you can’t deny it is a plus point, right?” He’s aware of how this makes him sound to his friends - but, at the same time, it is indeed what he believes, and denying that would look sillier than being upfront about it.

“Are you serious?” Devi exclaims, sharing a silent glance with Eleanor which clearly says, _Can you believe this guy?_ “You’re saying you’d marry for money?”

“Depends on how much money,” he says, half-joking. “Ten billion? Without a doubt.”

“And what if your wife is boring?” Eleanor asks, and he turns to look at her, sitting next to him. She’s, once again, wearing a skirt with a matching rose in her hair, but this time, both are peacock blue. Ben definitely admires her commitment to the bit, but- well, it’s just so _Eleanor_ that he can’t help but smile at it.

“Oh, El, if I wanted an interesting wife, I’d just marry you,” he says, grinning. “If you’ve got ten billion in the bank, why’d you need a partner to entertain you?”

“How romantic,” Devi says, rolling her eyes at him. “You got a girlfriend? Because I pity the poor woman, if you do.”

“I don’t,” Ben says shortly, hoping neither of his friends will bring up the elephant in the room, but-

“Hey, weren’t you seeing that Melissa for some time there?” Fabiola asks. “I liked her, what happened to her?”

There it is. The cold feeling spreads through his body again, and his jaw clenches, before he wills himself to speak normally about it. It’s been long enough - he’s sure he can do it. “Well- I guess we just wanted different things out of life,” he says, as quickly and tonelessly as he can muster.

“Devi,” Eleanor says, pointing with her straw. “What do _you_ want out of life?”

Devi shrugs. “Well - there are lots of things,” she says. “I wanted to be doing something I loved, and something that supported the way I wanted to live. I guess that’s why I’m in grad school now.” She laughs, but no one else joins her. “Come on, guys, you don’t get it?”

“Ben would get it,” Fabiola says. “He’s the one with the MBA.” She’s met with an eyeroll and a bit of a shove, and rolls her eyes right back.

“I’m a couple years away from getting my PhD in neuroscience, actually,” Devi says, somehow not sounding at all smug about it. “I go to various sites around the world during my breaks to teach diving. It’s been…” she makes a mind-expanding gesture. “Well, it’s been amazing for me. So I guess what I learned from it was that… I want life to keep surprising me, inspiring me. I want to keep meeting new people. And,” she finishes up, turning back to Eleanor, “I want you to buy me a drink.”

A while later, they’re walking down a narrow, cobblestoned path back to their villa, when Fabiola spots a man walking slightly behind them. “Guys,” she whispers, ducking behind a wall, “just follow my lead.”

Ben groans. “Fab, you’ve been playing this prank since forever, it stops being funny after some time. We could get arrested for this, for god’s sake.”

She shakes her head insistently. “Trust me. Just do it. You too, Devi,” she adds, because all four of them are now clustered on a small flight of stairs hidden behind the wall, and Devi looks excited to be trying out this trick. “When I scream, point where I’m pointing, and yell as loud as you can.”

The man passes them by, and Fabiola screams, pointing at the gutter at the side of the lane. Ben, along with the others, follows suit, yelling as loud as he can. He can only take a second to enjoy the man’s horribly confused face, before Fabiola’s hand on his drags him away, and the four of them dash to the next diversion in the path, laughing helplessly as they run.  


* * *

  
Ben prides himself on a lot of things, and frankly, his cooking skills are part of those things too. Cooking at home with Patty was one of his favourite memories growing up, as sad as it sounds - and even now, years later, it’s one of the very few things he truly enjoys doing. So, today, he’s taken on the challenge to cook something Spanish for his friends. He squints at the ‘easy paella’ recipe he's opened on El's phone, stirring the meat and seafood in the pan - maybe it isn’t the most authentic of the lot, but it is, as advertised, fairly easy, and he’s almost at the last step.

“Need some help?” Devi asks, walking over to the kitchen counter. She looks even prettier than she’s always looked, he thinks - there’s something about her that seems to almost make her glow today.

“I’m good,” he says, and she looks into the pan he’s currently stirring, then lifts up the lid on the other pan. He almost wants to tell her to go away, because he doesn't normally take too kindly to people nosing around in something he's doing, but he’s honestly feeling too, well, Zen right now to pick a fight.

“ _Paella, muy bien_ ,” she compliments him, and Ben feels both a touch smug and genuinely gratified. “So, Gross, you didn’t tell me how you liked the diving.” She climbs up onto one of the high chairs near the counter.

“It was magical,” he says, before he can think of saying anything else. With Devi, he’s almost always searching for a snarky comment to make, or a witty retort to _her_ snarky comments, but right now, all he can be is honest. “It really was. I felt like I was in the most peaceful place on Earth. Thank you for that, Devi.”

“You’re welcome, I deserve it,” she says, before laughing and shaking her head. “Nah, it was all you. I couldn’t have made you do it if you didn’t want to.” She pauses for a minute, looking pensive. “You know, I first started diving when I was sixteen, on a holiday with my m- with my family. And then, well… I didn’t ever want to stop.”

Ben knows what she means, honestly. He hadn’t ever wanted to come up either. Diving had felt like meditation to him, like a whole different sphere of life, where nothing mattered. Not his calls from work, not any commitments, not any worries about the future. In that moment, it was just him, and his breath, and the ocean.

Well, and Devi.

He cocks his head, smiling at her, before saying, “You could help me serve this? Just get the plates from the cabinet - there.” He points to the cabinet, and Devi goes to get them, just as Fabiola and Eleanor come down the stairs.

“Man, this is so good,” Fabiola says a while later, as she takes the first bite of the paella on her plate. “Really, Ben, you should cook more often.”

“I know, dude,” he says. “I do cook, at home. But not like this. Who has the time to cook something elaborate like this every day?”

She nods, conceding the point, before asking, “So, you still scared of water, Ben?”

“No!” he says, almost too quickly, before realising how it sounds. “I mean, really. No. I’m not scared of water anymore. I’m not scared of anything anymore, not even life.”

"Of _life_!" Eleanor echoes, laughing. “Wow, one dive and you’ve suddenly unravelled the great philosophy of life, huh?”

“It’s really quite simple,” Ben says, smiling. It is - before he entered the water, he’d never considered that this was the answer. But now, it’s so painfully obvious that it almost feels comical. “All you need to do is just keep breathing.”

“Sounds very Ariana Grande, but I’m not complaining,” Eleanor teases. “Devi, thank you so much, man. You’ve finally got our old friend back from whatever cave he’s been hiding in.” She holds out her hand for a high-five, and Devi returns it in a fraction of a second. “I feel like you should join us for the rest of the trip. Not just for Ben’s sake, but ours too.”

“Trust me, I’d love to,” Devi says, smiling sheepishly. “But I’ve got to leave tomorrow. I’m headed to Buñol for the Tomatina festival.”

“Oh, too bad,” Fabiola says at the same time as Ben interjects, “What’s Tomatina?”

Devi pauses, looking pensive. “Oh, it’s like Holi, but with tomatoes- wait. Sorry. I don’t think what any of you would know what Holi is.”

Eleanor and Fabiola shake their heads, but Ben says, “I know.” A history assignment in high school, as well as countless quiz bowls, have left him fairly knowledgeable about Indian festivals, and there is a sizeable South Asian population in LA as well. Besides, there’s that ‘colour run’ stuff some white hipsters have been organising lately - so obviously inspired by Holi that it’s not even funny.

Devi snorts. “Of course you do, Gross. Why did I even expect anything else?” She pauses to take a bite of the food. “Anyway. Tomatina is basically the world’s largest tomato fight. Actually, you guys should come along! The more, the merrier, right?”

“I’m in,” Fabiola says in a heartbeat; she’s been fairly glum all evening, but this news seems to finally excite her a little.

“Are you serious?” Eleanor says, turning to her with wide eyes. “We’re leaving for Seville tomorrow - how can we delay the reservations? And besides-” she assumes a tone of mock terror - “Seville is _Ben’s_ choice. You only mess with Ben’s reservations and schedule if you have a death wish.”

Ben smiles weakly but fondly at her. He can’t really deny that he’s tempted to go along for this festival too - _and spend more time with Devi_ , a traitor voice whispers inside his head. “I’ll see what I can do,” he says, pulling out the pink flip phone, and earning a very confused glance from Devi.

“Is that your phone?” she asks, sounding highly amused.

“Long story,” he says, shaking his head. “Let’s not go there.”

“No, it’s nice,” she says, and he truly cannot tell if she’s making fun of him or telling the truth. “Very- um, unique. Guys who are in touch with their feminine side are pretty cool.”

He sighs, and stays quiet. If this conversation doesn’t end now, he’s likely to embarrass herself in front of her even more. “Shh. Eat your food,” he says to Fabiola and Eleanor, who are sporting exactly identical grins on their faces.  


* * *

  
_”How could you do this?” Melissa says to him, storming away from him as he follows behind her desperately._

_”Mel, I’m really sorry, I am,” he pleads, catching up to her. “But can’t you see that this deal is really important for me?”_

_”And can’t you see that I don’t care?” she suddenly shouts, tears running down her cheeks._

_”You don’t care? You don’t care about my life?”_

_”Ben, stop it. Just stop it, please!” she says, shaking him by the shoulders. “Your work is not your life. Stop confusing them! Your work is just a part of your life, not all of it!” She pauses, breathing heavily. “Just like this relationship is supposed to be a part of your life. What about that, huh?”_

_”What about that?” he says, disbelieving. “What about that? I bought this apartment so I could live comfortably with you, I hope you know that!”_

_Melissa scoffs. “Please. You bought this apartment so you could impress people who knew you lived here.” She rubs her temples and turns away from him, looking as if she can’t quite believe what he’s saying either._

_”I can’t believe you’re saying this,” he says, very close to shouting himself. “I’m planning for our future here, Mel! I can’t believe you don’t realise that!”_

_”The future is the future, Ben, for fuck’s sake!” she says, very close to a scream now. “I want a present with you, and I just don’t have it! Where is our present, Ben? Where is it?”_

_”Please, please don’t scream!” he says, gripping her arm, trying to soothe her. “Don’t scream. What is it you want from me? What do you want that I’m not already trying to give you?”_

_”I want to spend time with you,” she says, sounding more quiet now, more defeated. “I want you to care about me, about this relationship, for the sake of the relationship. Not for your secure future and retirement plan.”_

_”Please,” he begs, feeling guilt course through him. “You don’t realise how crucial this deal is for my job, love. If this presentation goes well, I’ll get my client’s entire account, and you know how good that will be for my career. For our life, for us. We can go on our trip next month.”_

_”You know what else would have been good?” she says spitefully. “If my boyfriend cared enough about me to at least inform me he was cancelling his plans with me, on my birthday, just because he had an important presentation to make.” She says the last few words with a heavy, sardonic tone. “My birthday isn’t going to come next month, Ben.”_

_”I’m really sorry,” he says, moving closer to her, cupping her face in his hands. “I am. Please understand.” Her expression softens, and she opens her mouth to say something, but just then, his phone rings._

_”I have to take this,” he says quickly, moving away from her, seeing her face fall again but not knowing what to do about it. “It’s a really important call - I’m sorry - yeah, hello, Alex, yes, I’ll be there-”_  


* * *

  
He sits on a deck chair outside the villa, swirling a glass of wine, remembering. Maybe he should make a promise to himself. Maybe it’s worth resolving never to let work take over his life so much again that he loses track of the people that are important to him.

Perhaps this is why he needed this holiday, he thinks. To remember who and what has truly been there for him all this while, and will be there for him no matter what, and to remember to prioritise those things, and those people.

His phone rings, again, and he sees it’s a work contact of his. He waits for it to finish ringing, and the call to be cut, before he finally picks up the phone. _Can I call you later? I’m on holiday_ , he texts.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is brought to you by my frustration with zoya akhtar for writing a flat mpdg love interest (and so will be the next)


	4. take the world, paint it red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a longer chapter than usual today, with a lot more divergence from the original movie, but I hope you like it!

“Hey,” Fabiola says into the phone speaker. “You must be on your flight.” Alex is flying out to see family, and hasn’t been picking up his phone the last few times she called. “I’ve been trying to call, to tell you that there’s been a change in plan. We’re going to Buñol for the Tomatina festival, Devi is taking us with some friends.” She pauses, knowing he won’t be too happy about it. “I’m sorry, I know you were expecting me back earlier. But this is like a once-in-a-lifetime thing, so I may as well enjoy everything I can while I’m here, right? Call me when you have some time. Love you, bye.”

As she says this, she rounds the bend into the gate of the villa, driving the blue convertible (which, thankfully, the rental people have allowed her to swap out the SUV for). It's what El wanted, and to be frank, so did she - and who is she to deny anyone from indulging in their desires on holiday?

"Oh my god, Fab, I love this," Eleanor declares as she pulls up in front of the villa, where they're waiting. "You actually got it? Unbelievable!" She starts to walk around the car slowly, not touching it, almost as if she's afraid it'll vanish if she does. "If a week of diving can do this to you, you should stay underwater forever."

"Well," Fabiola replies, "this is my last holiday before I'm getting married. Who knows if I'll ever be able to do things like this again? I might as well indulge." She ignores Eleanor's frown at this, as well as her own sense of doubt about saying it. Marriage _will_ change some things about her schedule and social circle, and that's not something she can deny.

"Oh well, can I drive?" El asks, as Devi enters the back seat and makes herself comfortable there.

Fabiola moves close to Eleanor's face, looking into her eyes, maintaining a stoic expression. "Eleanor, it would give me no greater joy… than if you _didn't_ drive," she deadpans, and Eleanor rolls her eyes and turns away, moving to the backseat where Ben is just about to get in next to Devi. _She's probably up to something_ , Fabiola thinks, but chooses to allow her her fun.

"Hey, Ben," she says, "The trunk isn't closing, just go have a look at it?"

"Yeah, sure," Ben says, and just as he goes over to the trunk, Eleanor slides into the seat next to Devi, grinning. Fabiola rolls her eyes and chuckles a little; El is being just generally herself, but she senses a purpose behind it. If she doesn't push Ben to his limits, he's never going to admit how bad he's got it for Devi. Well, he might not ever actually admit it out loud anyway, but he at least might be able to realise it himself. He shuts the trunk with a slam, and folds his arms, glaring at Eleanor.

"Hey, the front seat has more legroom," she says. "Enjoy yourself." As he gets into the front seat with a huff, she grins and taps Fab's shoulder. "Chauffeur! Next stop, Buñol."

It surprises Fab how much more relaxed Ben seems on this drive; right now, he's got one arm rested on the side of the car, and a bag of chips in his lap, which he's repeatedly passing around. There's no sign of his phone, which hasn't rung since they started out in the morning, nor are there any stress lines on his forehead, something she's practically used to seeing with Ben.

"Want some?" he asks Eleanor, who refuses. Fabiola glances behind to see that she's set the purse Ben had brought for her on her own lap, and is now draping her scarf around the top.

"What are you doing?" Devi asks, sounding bemused.

"Devi," Eleanor proclaims, "meet Bag-heera."

Devi sputters out a silent laugh, but waves a little at the bag anyway. "Hi, Bag-heera."

"She thinks you are very beautiful," Eleanor says, eyeing Ben in a not at all subtle way. But Devi is either completely oblivious to this, or choosing to ignore it. Fabiola sighs, pushing up her sunglasses over the bridge of her nose, and drives on.

A few minutes of silence follow, before Eleanor starts to hum. It's a song that sounds vaguely familiar to Fabiola, and so it's probably from one of the few musicals she's listened to, but she can't place it. (Eleanor mostly listens to theatre soundtracks, and Fab knows it - the odds of the song being anything but that are almost negligible.)

"Are you into musical theatre, El?" Devi asks her.

"Into?" Ben cuts in, before Eleanor can say anything. "She's one of the most renowned young artists of our time, Devi. I'm surprised you've never heard of her."

"Oh, you actually do act?" Devi asks her with interest. "That’s amazing! Guess I know a real celebrity now.”

“Hey, Fab,” Ben says, throwing her a mischievous look, “want to give Devi a rendition of El’s most famous role?”

Fabiola, catching on immediately, says, “Sure,” and starts to make sounds vaguely reminiscent of beatboxing. When she’s done that for a few seconds, Ben begins to sing.

_”Animal Crackers, Animal Crackers, healthy and tasty too  
Animal Crackers, Animal Crackers, the perfect snack for you!  
When Mommy and Daddy bring it out,  
All the kids will scream and shout!”_

Fabiola grins, joining in on the last chorus. “ _Animal Crackers, Animal Crackers, the perfect snack for you!_ ” She holds the last note for as long as she can, while Ben chimes in with, “Now available in chocolate flavour too!” He’s barely able to finish before he’s overcome by a wave of helpless laughter, and Fabiola joins him.

The next minute, though, Eleanor whacks him in the back of his head with the purse. “You _asshole_ ,” she says, sounding much more mortified than angry. She turns to Devi now, holding her hands up defensively. “I have to pay my bills, okay? Don’t judge me!”

“No one is judging you,” Devi says placatingly, even though she, herself, is wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “And hey, just because you sing commercial jingles doesn’t mean you’re not a great singer. It’s not like your attempt was that good, you know,” she says to Ben, taking her turn to whack him in the head as well.

Fabiola grins fondly at the scene unfolding behind her - sometimes, it truly does feel like they’ve known Devi forever - when her phone begins to ring. “Hey,” she says to Alex.

“Hi,” he says. “So, you’re headed to this festival thing?” His voice sounds strange, and she’s not sure if she’s reading too much into things or it’s him that sounds off. Nor does she have any idea why he would.

“Yeah, I am,” she says breezily. “Ben changed the Seville bookings, and Devi got us rooms in the same hotel she and her friends are staying at.” Devi hasn’t yet told them who, exactly, her friends are, but she’s sure it won’t be an issue - well, unil Alex speaks again, anyway.

“Wait, you're meeting some people there?" he asks, now sounding genuinely annoyed. "Who are they?"

Fabiola frowns. Why is he being so odd about it? "I don't know them," she says, "but I can ask Devi. Hey, Devi, who are we meeting there?"

Devi looks up from her conversation with Eleanor to say, "Oh, my friends Paxton and Trent."

"Paxton and Trent," Fabiola repeats into the phone, and is met with a long silence. "Babe? Are you here?"

"I may as well not be, right?" Alex says in annoyance. "Why are you even talking to me? Go and enjoy with your new friends."

She sighs, taking one hand off the steering wheel to rub her temples. She isn't ready for this conversation - not ever, but especially not right now. "We aren't even there yet, Alex. And if you had so much of a problem with me spending time with guys, why didn't you object to Ben?"

"Oh, please," he scoffs. "Ben is hardly a threat. He looks like Andy Bailey."

"Andy who? Who are you talking about, Alex? Seriously," she says. If this goes on for much longer, she's going to have to pull up and ask someone else to drive. "God, you mean the dude from _Modern Family_. Great. Thanks for derailing the entire conversation."

"I haven't derailed anything," Alex says sullenly. "You go and enjoy your festival. Not like I'm important to you, or anything."

" _God_ , Alex," she says, trying to keep her tone even. "I'm driving. Please don't make this hard for me." She wonders what he thinks will happen. Does he really think she'd just up and cheat on him? Is that- is that what _men_ do, on their bachelor trips? "Why don't you trust me?"

"It's not about trust," he says, and doesn't clarify. But before Fabiola can ask him to, he carries on, "Yeah, whatever, you drive. I wouldn't want to ruin your fun."

"Alex," she says, sighing. "I'll call you tonight, okay? I promise. I love you."

He hangs up the phone without another word, and Fabiola sighs, desperately wanting to pinch the bridge of her nose. _Of course. Of course this had to happen now._ Thankfully, she pulls up to the hotel within the next five minutes. To her surprise, Devi gets out of the car immediately, and hugs both the men standing in front of it.

"Everybody! This is Paxton," she points to the taller of the two men, who looks like he literally just walked off a magazine cover, "and this is Trent." Here, she points to the other one, who has long hair and an open, friendly look on his face. Fabiola is, somehow, sure that he wears a backwards baseball cap on a regular basis, but can't say where her assertion comes from.

Paxton smiles at the gathering. "Hey, all of you. Nice to meet you." Fabiola doesn't miss the way Eleanor is eyeing him up, either; after her disastrous phone conversation, looking at El lust after Paxton is managing to put a smile on her face.

"Hey!" Trent says, before quickly turning to Devi and saying, "The festival's just started - let's go, or we'll be late." He turns and quickly begins walking down a nearby lane. "Follow me, everyone!"

"Follow him, everyone!" Devi echoes, shepherding everyone down the lane.

"What about our stuff?" Fabiola asks, watching the expression on Ben's face turn from apprehensive to horrified. "Look at him - poor guy, his laptop is out here! How will he ever survive without knowing it's safe and sound in his room?"

"They'll take care of your stuff, dude," Devi asserts again. "Come on, Gross, stop worrying about your laptop. Worry about me completely destroying you in a tomato fight." She continues to move down the street, and Fabiola follows her.

"In your dreams, David," Ben returns, as he picks up a tomato from where it's lying on the street. "I'm going to crush you, and you're in denial."

She scoffs, turning her attention to the others and holding up her hands. "Alright, I've got to tell you guys the rules of this fight. One," she puts down one finger, "make way for the trucks. And two, squash the tomatoes before you throw them."

Fabiola picks up a tomato from the ground, too, and flings it at Eleanor, who shrieks in pain. "Fab, why didn't you squash it?"

"Oh, did it hurt?" she says, with mock-horror.

Eleanor only has time to say, "Of course," before Ben pelts her with his own, un-squashed tomato. "What are you doing?" she yells. "Follow the rules!"

Fabiola laughs, throwing another tomato (but squashed this time). "You've never cared about rules, El. Why should we respect them now?" Just to emphasise her point, she throws another one. "I'll show you rules!" And with that, they lose themselves in the milling crowd.  
  
  


* * *

  


"I'm going to smell terrible after this," Eleanor declares, sighing dramatically as the group stumbles back to the hotel. "I need a _really long_ shower." She almost bats her eyes at Paxton, but decides not to at the last second.

He laughs anyway, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "I do, too."

Fabiola slides a glance over at both of them, shooting Eleanor a knowing smile. _God, sometimes it really sucks to have someone who knows you this well._ It's not like she's in love with Paxton or anything, but he's hot, and she's lonely, and he seems to be receptive too. What's wrong with shooting her shot?

Back at the hotel, Paxton asks her, “Mind if I go first?”

She looks at Devi for a long time, wondering if she should ask to join him now, but Devi doesn’t seem to get it, so she shrugs. Walking over to the room she and Fabiola share, she’s about to knock at the door before she hears a tearful shout.

“We’ve only just met them _today_ , for fuck’s sake, Alex! We might never even see them again!” A long pause - of course, Fabiola must be on the phone with her fiance again. Eleanor frowns and stops at the door, trying to listen in to the conversation. “Oh, God, you really think I’d do that, huh. What’s wrong with you?”

Deciding she shouldn’t be listening to much more of it, Eleanor knocks at the door. “Hey, Fabs, I need my bag. Can I come in?”

She waits a long time before she hears a response; but eventually, Fabiola says, “Sure, come in.”

Eleanor walks in, trying to glance subtly at Fabiola’s face, but probably failing at the subtle part of it. Nevertheless, Fab's eyes are red-rimmed, and she looks utterly exasperated. “Everything okay?” she asks, even though it seems a bit redundant to ask.

Fabiola nods quickly - a little too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine. Relax.”

She gets her bag quickly and leaves the room, pausing to listen at the door again for a bit when she hears, “Listen, I’m sorry you’re upset, okay? I really am. But that’s no excuse to insult my friends. You’ve even _met_ El, what is wrong with you?”

Eleanor really isn’t sure what to think at this point. She’s met Alex once, but he seemed perfectly nice then, and while Fabiola never seemed over the moon about him, she never had any problems as such - so what is this happening now?

She does feel like going back, like yelling at him over the phone, but… hey, maybe she doesn’t know the whole truth of it. Maybe this is a one-off, maybe he’s never been like this before. _But they’ve only been together six months_ , a voice in her head whispers. _He could be like this again in the future_.

Sighing and shaking her head, she goes down to the hall again, where, as usual, Devi and Ben are engaged in a spirited - well, they call it a discussion, but anyone else would call it practically a verbal brawl. “What’s up?” she asks them, at first going in to lean against a chair, but realising she’s stained with tomato juice and keeping herself upright with difficulty.

Devi smirks at her. “Nothing you need to know about.” She folds her arms, throwing Ben a significant glance, but Ben doesn’t say anything.

Deciding to take her mind off the whole Fabiola situation, Eleanor lets her eyes stray to the bathroom door. Paxton has been in there a while, and she wonders if it’d be right to make such a blatant pass at him… _Go for it_ , her mind whispers, and she asks Devi, “You think I can ask to join him?”

Before Devi can answer, Ben cuts in with, “Dude, what are you doing? Don’t be stupid!”

Devi shakes her head at him, before saying to Eleanor, “Go for it, tiger.” She smiles, clapping her on a relatively clean part of her arm.

Eleanor grins, and moves up to the door, knocking on it. “Hey, Paxton, can I come in?” she asks, taking a deep breath and waiting for his reply. Three or four seconds pass, and she’s about to apologise and leave - but then, the door opens, and her heart almost leaps with joy. “See you at dinner!” she says, waving at Devi and Ben, before entering the bathroom. The last she sees of them, Ben is sliding Devi five dollars.  
  
  


* * *

  


Dinner is over, Ben is exhausted, and he’s pretty much ready to crash. He won’t lie, though - he’s concerned about Fabiola too, because she was very taciturn all through dinner, and retired to her room, again, immediately after. He’s about to enter her room, when he hears quiet sobbing, and he knocks on the door. “Fab, can I come in?”

When he hears her affirmation, he walks in, only to see her sitting on the bed, stone-faced.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asks, trying to sound as soft as possible. It’s difficult, now, he won’t deny that; it’s been years since he’s had cause to speak to anyone like this.

Fabiola sits up straight, her expression neutral, her eyes hollow. “Nothing is the matter, Ben. Seriously.”

He sits down on the bed with her, extending a hand. “You know, you can tell me. We all heard you arguing on the phone on the way here… is it still about that?”

“Mostly, yes,” Fabiola admits, moving her hand closer to his, not taking it but not pushing it away either. “It’s just - Alex never seemed like the jealous type, you know. He didn’t have any issues with you, or with me going on this trip with you. Now… I don’t know what the matter is.” She bunches up her hair in her hand, twisting it into a ponytail and tying it up. “I’d have thought he’d be happy for me.”

“He should be,” Ben says emphatically. “In fact, shouldn’t he be out having his own fun too? Why is he obsessing over what _you_ are up to?”

Fabiola sighs. “Because Paxton and Trent are hot, apparently.” She drops her head into her hands. “I don’t even think they’re all that hot. And Alex is convinced, apparently, that I’m going to be ‘having fun’ with them.” She actually uses air-quotes, which Ben suppresses a smile at, but he’s no less concerned yet. “I sent him that picture of us we took after the festival, and apparently because Paxton was carrying me, Alex thinks something happened between us. I swear to god.”

This time, Ben decides to surpass boundaries, and instead throws his arm around Fabiola’s shoulder, pulling her in for a hug. She stiffens, but doesn’t flinch away. “Hey, listen,” he says. “I’m here for you. We’re all here for you. We can vouch for you if he asks.”

She pulls away from him, wiping her eyes. “Thank you, Ben. It really does mean a lot to me that you said that.” Bringing her knees up to her chest, she looks sideways at him again. “I think I need some time to talk this out with him. We’ll be fine. We’ve never had problems like this before, I’m sure this is just a one-off.”

He sits with her for a few minutes more, then makes his way back down to the lobby, where Devi, Paxton and Eleanor are sitting. Almost immediately, El accosts him.

“Dude,” she says in a whisper, pulling him into a corner as she does, “listen, can you and Devi go take a walk? I just need a little time.”

Ben looks at her, then at Paxton, understanding slowly dawning on him. Looks like things went even better than anticipated. He’ll have to apologise to Devi - he didn’t think it would actually happen. “Dude, I’m tired. Devi’s tired too.” He’s just messing with her at this point, but she pouts, pushing his shoulder lightly.

“Come on, man,” she says in a petulant tone. “The night is young, you’re young too. I’m sure you’ll find something fun to do!”

“Alright, alright,” he says, conceding the point, and raises his voice slightly so Devi can hear. “Yo, David, let’s take a walk.”

A few minutes later, having left Eleanor to continue her seduction attempts, Ben and Devi are walking down a narrow street near the hotel. He reaches into his pocket, panicking, before realising. “Shit, I forgot my phone.”

“Aren’t you on holiday?” Devi fires back. She’s wearing a white dress today, shorter than she’s ever worn before, and it stands out starkly against her dark skin. Ben almost thinks it looks like it’s glowing.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says sheepishly, stuffing his hands in his pockets and continuing to walk. “Hey, David, do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” Devi says, a mischievous smile playing on her face. “But you didn’t ask if I had a girlfriend.”

Ben feels himself flush. “Well, do you have a girlfriend?”

Devi laughs. “I don’t. I’m not opposed to it, but I’ve only ever dated guys so far.” She walks on a little, before ostensibly deciding to continue. “Before you ask why I’m single, it’s clearly because no one could handle this much perfection.” She turns to him and gestures to herself confidently.

“More like no one can handle this much _annoying_ ,” he says, even if his heart really isn’t in the taunt, and, in fact, is racing rather quickly in reaction to her in that dress.

“That’s not even grammatically correct, Gross,” Devi retorts. “Annoying isn’t a noun.”

Unusually for them, he decides to let the fight go. There’s a lot more he’d like to know about Devi, and if they get caught up in an argument again, he’ll probably lose his chance to. And so, he follows behind her, trying to look more at the sights around him and less at her.

“Devi,” he says again after a few minutes, and she turns. “What would you say is your type?”

“My type,” she says thoughtfully, slowing down her walk so he can catch up. “I wouldn’t say I have a type. But then, everyone says that. I guess the better way to say it is that I don’t really know what my type is, I guess.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Ben answers. “I could make a good guess as to what your type is. Like, someone who only takes three weeks off a year can’t be your type, right?”

Devi laughs. “They can’t be anyone’s type! They don’t have time to be.” She doesn’t sound as dismissive as he expects her to, though. “Not to be all punk-rock-rebel, but anyone who has that little time can’t be anything but a slave to the system.” She shrugs.

“Yeah, and I’m sure you wouldn’t like anyone who’s overly focused on their career either,” Ben says, starting to sound defensive, though he has no idea why. “Or someone who cares only about money.”

“Like you?” Devi asks, raising an eyebrow at him, and all of a sudden, he wants to run away.

“You know nothing about me, Devi,” he says, his sense of ease slowly ebbing. “So please stop making assumptions about my life or why I am the way I am.”

“You know, Gross, I think I have a pretty good idea of why,” she says softly. “And not because I’m some magical omniscient fairy or anything. Because I’ve been where you are now.” They’re passing an open, grassy ground, where families and couples are scattered. “You want to sit down?”  
  
  


* * *

  


It’s been nearly an hour since Ben has left, and Fabiola is still sitting on the bed, lost in thought. Alex is texting her, now, apologising for being so harsh, and for making her cry. She notes, though, that he still isn’t apologising for making the assumptions that he did.

 _Well,_ she thinks, getting up from the bed, _nothing to do but try and make myself feel better, right?_ As soon as she opens the door, she realises the one leading to Paxton’s room is closed, and smiles. _Guess El did end up shooting her shot eventually._

She looks through the rest of the suite, but finds no signs of anyone else, and so makes her way down to the lobby, and then the bar. To her surprise, Trent is already sitting there, and turns and waves to her.

“Hey, Trent,” she says, smiling at him as she perches on the barstool next to his. “Can I have a beer?” she asks the bartender, then turns her stool around to face his.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he replies, and trails off. She suspects he’s forgotten her name. “Fabiola,” she supplies.

“Hey, Fabiola,” he says again, sounding no different to before. “You’ve been inside all evening. Something up?”

 _Wow, he really does get straight to the point._ She chuckles. “Nothing much. Just - my fiance and I had a stupid fight.”

He narrows his eyes at her, looking like he’s deep in thought. “Sorry, fiance?”

Fabiola can’t help but laugh - of course she’d end up talking to the one person who’s probably fairly clueless about what’s going on. “Engaged. The guy I’m engaged to,” she says, showing him her ring. “His name’s Alex, if you want to call him that.”

“Sure, Alex,” Trent says breezily. “I thought his name was Ben. So what’s making you fight?” He has a remarkable way of putting her at ease, and while she was initially wary of sharing too much with him, she figures it can’t be too harmful if she does now.

“No, no,” she says, genuinely laughing out loud now. “Ben’s just a friend. Alex hasn’t come along with us. Actually, that’s why he’s upset.” Her beer has just arrived, and she takes a few sips of it, watching him drink from his own glass. “He thinks something’s going to happen just because we met up with you and Paxton. He’s jealous.” Admitting it out loud feels strangely freeing, she won’t deny that.

Trent shakes his head. “Paxton seems crazy about that other friend of yours. The, uh, Asian one.”

“Eleanor,” Fabiola says.

“Eleanor,” he echoes. “Yeah, they’re getting along like a house on fire. And me, well. You are quite h- sorry, quite pretty. I shouldn’t be calling an engaged woman hot. But now that I know you’re taken, I won’t try anything. I swear. Cross my heart.” He has the most earnest look on his face as he says this, and Fabiola grins. Surprisingly, she believes him.

"Don't worry, I never thought you would," she says. "I'm just, I'm surprised Alex is being this way, you know. He seemed perfectly fine before this."

"How long have you been with him?" Trent asks, as he drains his beer mug and sets it down on the counter.

"Six months," she says. "Don't start me on the too-early-to-marry stuff, okay, I know. I know. But he proposed to me, and I thought, hey, what reason do I have to say no?"

Trent frowns. "That you don't want to?"

"No, that's not good enough," Fabiola insists. "There has to be a why to everything. Like, I can't just not want to, right, there's got to be a reason. And I didn't have a reason. So, hey. Here I am. I'm sure things will get a lot better once I'm back."

"If you say so," Trent says, shrugging. "I've never wanted to marry anyone, so I wouldn't know. But… that's not the problem right now. The problem is, you're upset. And we have to make you feel better."

She smiles. Even if his plan to make her feel better ends up not working, his earnest efforts are enough to, at least, take some of the weight off her shoulders. "So, do you have a plan?"

"I have a couple," he says. "Tell me how you feel about them. First, we order shots and you forget about this Alex for some time."

Fabiola shakes her head. "We can order another round of drinks, but I'm not doing shots. There my friends are off falling in love, and I'm just getting hammered? Please, I deserve better."

"Alright," Trent says, his face falling for a split second, but perking up almost immediately. "Two, you talk to a friend about this situation."

"You're a friend," Fabiola points out. Well - he is, at least kind of. Even if this is their first real conversation, she does feel like if she worked at a friendship with him, it could definitely last.

"No, not me," he says. "I can be around, if you want, but - someone else. Someone who knows you better, or knows the situation better."

Fabiola falls silent at this, thinking. Ben and El are both off doing whatever they're doing, so they're out of the question, and she'll have to phone someone from home… "Brilliant idea, Trent!" she says, flinging her arms around him. "Thank you, I know exactly who I'm going to call."

"You're welcome, dude," Trent says in a bemused tone, but even as he is saying it, she's already shot off a text to Eve. _Hey, you have some time? I need to speak to you._  
  
  


* * *

  


Warm. Everything is warm. It’s the first thing Eleanor feels when she wakes up, and Paxton still has one arm curled around her. “Hey,” she says, wriggling around in bed to face him.

Paxton blinks a little, instinctively shielding his eyes as he opens them. “Hey, morning- wait.” His eyes are fully open now, and he looks curiously at her. “It’s not morning.”

“No, it’s still night,” Eleanor says, smiling at him. “I just couldn’t sleep. Sorry if I disturbed you.”

He looks at her for a few seconds, considering. “I mean, maybe I wanted to be disturbed.” He sits up, and is thankfully half-dressed - at least they remembered that before they’d drifted off to sleep. “Eleanor.” He says her name slowly, emphasising it, and she feels a shudder run through her.

“Paxton,” she says, trying to copy his style of speaking, but ending up sounding like she’s tipsy, or sleepy - both of which she is. “I’m glad I met you.”

“You don’t look that glad,” Paxton says, as he brings one hand up to her face. “See, here.” He runs his fingers over her forehead, where stress lines are almost permanently etched, “and here-” over the bags under her eyes -

“I’m in theatre, I shoot commercials, we have late nights, okay-” she protests, but he cuts her off.

“And here, too.” He taps one of her eyes, which she instinctively closes. “There’s just something about you.”

She grins, trying to put on her disaffected persona again, but he seems to have seen through her. “There’s loads about me, I’m sure. I’m hilarious, I’m talented, I’m gorgeous. You really lucked out tonight.” She’d put on another one of her skirt and rose combos today - this time red, just to amp up the mood - and while the skirt now lies discarded on the floor, the rose is still tangled in her hair, and she plucks it out.

“That I did,” Paxton says. “Not denying that. I’m talking about something else.” He frowns, studying her face again. “I’ve been noticing it since you guys arrived. You’re nearly always talking, but then, when you stop, you just… go quiet and get all sad.”

“I don’t,” Eleanor says weakly, knowing she’s denying it even to herself.

“Is there something bothering you?” Paxton says, not taking his eyes off hers. “Something you can’t tell anyone else? You can speak to me, you know. Sometimes it helps to talk to someone who’s not connected to the situation.”

She sits up, leaning against the headboard. “I don’t know if I can trust you.” She wants to, really, she does - now that he’s said it, the desire to finally just open up about it is nearly killing her.

“I promise you,” Paxton says, his hand finding hers under the sheets, and entwining his pinky finger with hers. “I won’t tell anybody.”

Struggling to not give into the warm feeling that is now completely engulfing her, she says, “A pinky swear? What are you, five?” But she feels a smile work its way onto her face anyway, and decides, _fuck it_. “I’ve brought my friends here for a reason,” she admits, not looking at Paxton. “My mom lives in Spain. They don’t know that. I never knew her either.”

“You’ve come looking for her?” he asks, not letting go of her hand, holding it tighter. “Why haven’t you told them that?”

“What if…” Her voice breaks, and she looks down. She can’t cry now, she just can’t. “What if she doesn’t want to meet me?” _What if she’s forgotten I exist? What if I just show up and act like a big ugly intrusion on her perfect new life?_

Paxton lets go of her hand now, and drops his arm down to her waist, pulling her closer. “Eleanor,” he says, sounding completely serious. “If she doesn’t want you, she’s not worth it. I can’t think of someone who wouldn’t want to have you around, and I just met you today. Imagine that.”

“You’re too nice,” Eleanor says softly, as she ducks her head into his chest. _It’s not permanent_ , she reminds herself. She can’t get attached to this feeling. This is just one night. Tomorrow they’ll be on their way, and she’ll probably never see Paxton again.  
  
  


* * *

  


“David, we’re adults,” Ben protests, as Devi comes back from the ice cream truck in the park holding two bright orange popsicles. “Adults don’t eat popsicles.” Apparently, she had the foresight to bring a mat to sit on, too. He might never completely understand her - but honestly, he likes that. It’s fun.

“If your definition of an adult is _you_ , then you’re an idiot,” Devi says, rolling her eyes at him. “Just eat the damn popsicle. It’ll get on my dress if you don’t.” She sits down, cross-legged, on the mat, and hands him one.

“So, you were saying?” he says, after a while of contented silence. The popsicle is half-finished by now, and his fingers are sticky, but he doesn’t really mind - well, not as much as he’d expected to, anyway.

“I was saying,” Devi says, “does money really make you happy?”

“Of course money makes me happy, Devi,” Ben snaps. “Money makes everyone happy. It makes the world go round. It gets you connections, and respect, and whatever you need.” He glances up at her face, and she does look hurt for a split second. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Devi laughs. “For once, Gross, you haven’t upset me. But I _am_ worried about you.”

Ben knows, now, that he’s going to have to talk about the very thing he’s been avoiding doing for ages. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself.

"My parents haven't ever really been there for me," he admits. "I mean, they were there, like they fed me, clothed me, paid for whatever I needed. But… they rarely spent any time with me. They wouldn't even be at home half the time."

"I'd think that would be even more proof that money can't buy happiness," Devi points out, sounding thoughtful, and Ben falls into thought as well.

Now that she has said it, he has to admit she's right. But, the thing is… "I never actually thought about it that way." He swallows the rapidly forming lump in his throat, and continues. "I thought I had to earn my parents' respect for them to want to spend time with me. So I studied, hard. Got a master's degree, got into investment banking, started making bank. But nothing changed for them, I suppose. Maybe they thought they had even less of an obligation to me after they didn't need to financially support me anymore." He quickly shoves the rest of his popsicle into his mouth, hoping that the brain freeze will freeze his emotional reactions in their tracks, too. "I would like to say I shifted focus then, from trying to earn their respect to trying to earn the world's respect… but I don't think I ever stopped trying to do that."

Devi finishes wrapping her empty popsicle stick in a tissue, and looks directly at his face, frowning. "You know, I get it. I wasn't in your exact situation, but I get it." She folds her legs sideways, and shifts her weight onto one hand. "I sort of had the opposite problem. You know. Indian families."

"I don't, actually." Ben cracks a smile at this, but he's glad Devi is finally opening up.

"My dad died when I was fifteen," she says, sounding a lot quieter. "Mom and I both took it really hard. And… we didn't get along too well in the beginning. It wasn't easy, you know, that year."

"I can imagine," Ben says. Having absent parents is one thing, but just losing one - just like that - it's not something he thinks he could take, even with his strained relationship with his own. And by all accounts, Devi seems like she was incredibly close to her father. "I'm really sorry."

"I decided to throw myself into random things to cope," she says. "At first, I tried to focus on guys - you know, Paxton and I actually dated for some time?"

Ben knows he's supposed to be sympathetic to her, but he can't help the sudden spark of jealousy flaring up within him. "You did? For how long?"

Devi screws her eyes shut for a second, thinking. "Hmm, I don't know, half a year. I think it's pretty obvious by now that it didn't work out," she says, half-smiling. "We're still really good friends, though. My mom loves him, and his sister is one of my best friends."

"Oh, so _Paxton_ is your type," he says, trying to sound teasing, but completely failing to disguise the annoyance in his voice. "Should have known I'd never make the cut." No sooner has he said it, that he's met with a punch in the shoulder.

"Excuse me, did you miss the part where _we broke up_?" she says.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," Ben replies, not meeting her eyes still. He realises he's just admitted that he's interested in her, but - hey, there's no taking it back now, is there? "Go on, you were saying something?"

This seems to snap her back to reality, too, and she continues. "Yeah. So. Trying to focus on guys didn't work. Academics didn't work either. But then.. well." She smiles a little. "I managed to get myself together. I went to therapy, I made a plan. Not a rigid plan, not like yours. But it helped me. And yes, diving helped me too. Mom wasn't that happy about it in the beginning, but she's chill with it now. We get along really well now. She's even stopped pestering me to get married." She laughs a little, her hair falling over her face.

Ben doesn't think she's ever looked more beautiful than she does in this moment.

"How did you do it, Devi?" he asks. "I've been trying, all my life. I've been trying to escape this box I've made for myself. But you… you're free. You don't care about the way the world sees you."

"I just explained it to you, Ben," she says. She rarely calls him Ben, he thinks. "It's not going to happen overnight. It needs work, conscious work. And you need to want to do it, too." She reaches out for his hand, curling her fingers around his, and he relaxes into her touch.

He suddenly realises that he wants this moment to last forever.  


**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue (a few lines) is lifted from the movie, mostly the stuff relating to investment banking, because I know nothing about that - so credits go to Farhan Akhtar for that.


End file.
